Robb Stark, First of His Name
by Samwell Stark
Summary: Part 1 of the 'A Time for Wolves' series. In a world where Robb Stark parleyed with Renly Baratheon instead of his mother. He meets a beautiful flower of Highgarden and is met with a series of events that drastically changes his destiny from what it was meant to be. Robb Stark is a more avid player of the Game of Thrones, thanks in a large part to Margaery Tyrell's influence.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note: Hi, hi. So this a story if Robb was slightly more politically astute and ruthless, and decided that he should be the one to parley with Renly instead of his mother. Read and review! :)**

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When word reached the Northern Camps of Renly Baratheon's marriage to Margaery Tyrell and of his claim to the Iron Throne, Robb had been advised from all of his bannermen to seek an instant alliance with the most agreeable living Baratheon. Robb however knew that Renly had fled the city hours before his father had been captured. This was a man that Eddard Stark had spoken of fondly, a man who had abandoned his brother's best friend to seek power of his own. That did not sit well with the newly crowned King-in-The-North. 

But as Robb was quickly learning, this war was less about honor and justice than it was about political maneuvering and strong allies. Renly Baratheon had 100, 000 men, a strong claim to the Iron Throne, and he was open to treating with Robb. It was the smart decision, even if it caused him to have doubts late into the night in his tent as he and his personal guard made the stealthy trek to the Reach while the majority of the Northern Force was commanded by the Greatjon, his fiercest supporter, in the Westerlands where the Northmen were camped at Ashemark. 

Robb had wanted to rally the river lords and the remaining Northerners to march home and reclaim their lands from the Greyjoys, but he had been counseled against it by Roose Bolton, the Greatjon and his mother. They needed strength to face the Greyjoys. Renly Baratheon's strength. He had agreed to parley with Renly himself, as he knew any other in his place would be an insult. It was a risky move, but one Robb undertook confidently. He had ridden south with all haste, managing a detour to stop in Riverrun and have his uncle Edmure consolidate the river lords to allow Tywin Lannister into the west, where with all hope the Northmen, the river lords and the army of King Renly would be able to eliminate them. Edmure had begrudgingly agreed to allow the Western Lords through without opposition, it was only when his own uncle Brynden Tully had reminded Edmure that Robb was now his King did Edmure yield to Robb's orders. 

It was the early morning and storm clouds were uncharacteristically overhead as Robb rode at the head of an arrow formation of Northern warriors trotting towards where King Renly was holding a melee tournament of some sort beneath the walls of Bitterbridge, the seat of House Caswell. Two of Renly's royal squires clad in black and gold were guiding them. 

Robb heard murmurings of condolence and support for his father and for his House as he dismounted his horse and approached the crowd circled around a battle. He glanced to Dacey Mormont and Smalljon Umber, who stood on either side of their Northern King that day. They too had raised eyebrows at the display before them. 

Two figures were in the midst of a melee, with the larger figure in bronzed armor clearly in control as they smashed their morningstar down upon a shield emblazoned with three golden roses. Ser Loras Tyrell's armor and shield were unmistakable, even to a group of Northerners who had never been further south than the Neck. 

It was not, however, Ser Loras who was winning this fight. It was the stranger in bronze who smashed the Knight of Flowers with their shield so forcefully that Ser Loras stumbled back, dazed. This solicited a cry of support from the platform where Renly was seated. Robb looked up to the platform for the first time, and saw a breathtakingly beautiful noble woman in a sky blue gown, an elegant crown nestled atop her head, poised even as she shouted for her brother. Robb blinked once, glancing between Renly and this woman...who had to be the famous Margaery Tyrell, and found himself almost envious of the Claimant to the Iron Throne. In the North he had heard tales of the Flower of Highgarden, but he had never taken much stock in stories, but now he could see the stories did not do Renly's Queen any justice. 

Robb was shocked back to the fight when the bronzed fighter smashed Ser Loras to the ground with a fierce tackle, before raising his visor and simultaneously drawing a dagger to place in Ser Loras's face. The Knight of Flower's words echoed around the circle: "Yield! I yield." 

"Well fought." came a voice from the platform, accompanied by a slow clap. Robb looked up to see Renly rising with a grin. "Approach!" he called to the victor of the fight, who did so obediently, before taking an almost reverent kneel before Renly. 

"Rise, remove your helm." Renly requested, for the victor to do just that. She had pulled her helm off to reveal herself as a blonde woman. This caused stirrings in all but the Northerners who had the likes of Dacey Mormont and her sisters by their sides for many moons. Robb noted that Ser Loras looked even more troubled at the revelation of his opponent's identity. 

"You are all your father promised and more, my lady. I've seen Ser Loras bested once or twice, but never quite in that fashion." 

"Now, now, my love. My brother fought valiantly for you." Robb's eyes, along with the eyes of everyone who heard the gentle voice but sharp words of Margaery Tyrell turned towards her. The large golden brown eyes that batted innocently at Renly caused Robb to hide a smirk of amusement. She was a strong spirit, not a docile golden southern rose, that was incredibly impressive to the Lord of the North. 

Robb was so distracted that he almost missed Renly's acquiescence to her words. "That he did, my Queen." Renly said with an almost pained smile that Robb did not miss. Renly then proceeded to name the blonde warrior as a member of his Kingsguard, a move that sent stirrings through the Southerners that the Northmen all looked confused about. Was honoring a skilled warrior, woman or not, so controversial in the South? Robb looked to Dacey, his stalwart friend and member of his personal guard. He could see that the attitudes of the southern lords did not sit well with her at all.

When Brienne of Tarth moved to her new place before Renly's make-shift wooden throne as a member of his guard, one of his squires looked to Robb who gave a single nod, prompting the squire to move forward.

"Your Grace, I have the honor to bring before you Robb Stark… First of His Name, Lord of Winterfell, King-in-The-North-and-Trident." The squire's reluctant to name Robb as a King did not go amiss by anyone, especially Renly who looked at Robb and his assembled warriors with greater interest.

 _"THERE IS ONLY ONE TRUE KING OF WESTEROS!"_ came a cry from the masses that was soon echoed by all the southerners. Renly stood to bring silence once more, before looking down from his platform, dressed in his finest armor and groomed to look every bit as regal as a King should, to the shaggy and travel-worn Robb Stark who wore armor that was scratched and worn from his use in battle.

" _King_ Robb…I am pleased to see you. May I introduce my wife, Margaery of House Tyrell." Renly said, nodding to Margaery who gave Robb a warm smile.

"You are most welcome here, King Robb." She began with a nod that Robb returned in kind "I am so sorry for your loss." She said so sincerely that Robb almost thought she felt his grief herself.

"You are most kind." Robb began, but before he could say much else he was interrupted by Renly.

"I swear to you, Robb, that I will see the Lannisters answer for your father's murder." Renly said, in much more of a show for his bannermen than for Robb "When I take King's Landing…I'll bring you Joffrey's head." Renly declared to roaring cheers from his soldiers. Robb struggled not to exchange glances with his guard as this happened, instead maintaining eye contact with Margaery Tyrell who gave Robb a small smile as Renly and the soldiers roared.

"A promise I am sure you will keep, Your Grace. But that is not why I have come here today. The North seeks vengeance. My father and your brother, King Robert, were friends bordering on brothers. The Lannisters have murdered them both and sullied the good name of Baratheon." Robb had rehearsed this speech in his sleep, his father had told him enough about Renly and he had learned enough about the man along the way to meet with him that Robb was certain he knew what to say. He did not however expect to be interrupted by Ser Loras Tyrell.

"Have you marched against Tywin Lannister yet? Or have you come here asking for us to vanquish your enemies for you?" this sent a murmuring through the crowds and a flush of anger through the Northmen, most of whom made to step forward, but were silenced by Robb's quick retort.

"I do not discuss my strategy in the open, Ser Loras. For you see I have been fighting a war, not playing at one. And losing." Robb said turning his head back towards Renly as the masses once again muttered furiously and the Northmen tried to suppress chuckles.

Robb saw that his words had not at all impressed Renly's Queen, Margaery's gaze had cooled as she looked at Robb, giving Renly a single unreturned glance as he stood to chuckle himself at Robb's barb.

"Do not worry, my friend. Our war is just beginning." Renly smiled as he walked down the steps of the platform to shake Robb's hand.

"Come, we have much to discuss." Robb looked to Dacey and Smalljon and gave them a single nod.

"Make camp, and try not to get in a fight with anyone…" Robb muttered to them as he walked past. Brienne of Tarth, the blonde warrior who Renly had named to his Kingsguard followed after Robb and Renly as they walked through the camp.

* * *

Robb and Renly stood on a bank on the river Mander, Brienne stood some ways off as the two men conversed.

"Your father was an honorable man."

"And you left him to die." Robb said pointedly after a moment, causing Renly to turn

"I never left your father to die, Robb. I urged him to take advantage of what Robert had tasked him with. To act before Cersei and her family could. Your father was an honorable man. But honor led to his imprisonment. His death is on Joffrey's hands. I hope you are smart enough to see that, because you cannot win this war on honor." Renly's words caused Robb to clench his jaw. He did not want to admit it, but Renly was right.

"He had no allies. No friends. No one to help him. He died alone. He died a traitor to the realm. He died without honor. My father deserved better, and I will see Joffrey's death at my own hands for this." Robb said fiercely, causing Renly to look taken aback for a moment.

"I have 100, 000 men at my command, Robb. All the might of the Stormlands and the Reach."

"And all of them bold and hot-blooded as Ser Loras?" Robb asked kicking a stone into the river. "This won't last, Renly. These melees, the feasts, the tournaments. It's a game to you, isn't it? I pity them."

"Why?" Renly asked, almost as though Robb was suggesting something impossible. The young Stark looked concerned for a moment before stepping forward to say what Starks had been saying for thousands of years.

"Because they are the knights of summer, and winter…winter is coming, Renly."

"Brienne…" Renly called, after giving Robb a long look "Escort _King_ Robb to his tent. He's tired from his journey." Renly said, before walking away from Robb to pull his gloves off.

"My army sits at Ashemark, I cannot dawdle." Robb called after Renly's retreating back.

"None of us can." Renly said loudly enough for Robb to just hear him.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello, hope you enjoyed the previous chapter. :)**

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The grey day dragged into an even colder night, and Robb found himself sitting alone by the fire as his guard got some well-deserved rest in their grey tents encircled by the golden tents of Renly's bannermen. Grey-Wind himself was slumbering soundly in Robb's tent, Robb could tell, He didn't know how he could tell this about his wolf, or how he seemed to have such a degree of control over him, but he simply went along with it. Robb did not like sitting here with only 50 fighters. He did not like waiting for Tywin Lannister to strike without having any way of knowing if he had yet or not. He was away from his own power, his army. Even Winterfell had fallen…Gods, how he would make Theon pay for what he had done…

So transfixed by the fire and his brooding thoughts, Robb almost did not see Margaery Tyrell come out of Renly's tent to throw a cold gaze at Robb before stalking off in the other direction. Robb then realized how odd it was that Margaery did not share a tent with Renly, and before he knew it, the King-in-the-North was up and striding after Queen Margaery Baratheon.

"You're not very quiet, you know." She said when he finally caught up to her near the river.

"I wasn't trying to be, if that means anything." Robb said, moving to stand beside her.

"Its not very proper, you know, striding after a Queen like that." Margaery said with a ghost of a smile.

"I only strode to apologize to a Queen." Robb was already smiling "I did not mean to cause any offence this morning."

"Oh. That." She said, as though remembering, she clasped her hands before her and looked out at the river for a few long, silent moments "Loras was more than a tad miffed that he'd been beaten by a woman. I thought it incredibly amusing in truth." She said, giving Robb a smile that seemed…sad, causing him to take a subconscious step forward. "I see you brought a warrior-woman as well. Is she _your_ Queen?" Margaery asked, causing Robb to look confused for a moment.

"Wha-? Oh. Dacey? Gods, no! Lady Dacey Mormont of Bear Island. She has ridden beside me since the onset of this…war." Robb said, smiling at first before sighing at the mention of their burden.

"My ladies-in-waiting all assumed she was your Northern Queen. She's very beautiful, isn't she?" Margaery asked, looking sideways at Robb who shrugged

"I suppose. I mean Dacey's always been as comfortable in chaimail as she is in a dress. But she's…always been like a sister to me. The Mormonts and the Starks are close." Robb, who had never truly been with a woman, was unaware of what Margaery was doing, and simply assumed she was being inquisitive.

"Most Northmen I've met seem to have nothing but love for your House. What your army lacks in numbers it makes up for in morale. They fly your banners proudly. Why is that?" Margaery asked curiously, and Robb could sense that this was not a ploy, not some cheap trick of Renly's to get inside knowledge. Margaery Tyrell was genuinely interested in what he had to say.

"It was my father…" Robb said quietly "He was the best man I've ever known. A good man. They all loved him, because he cared about them all. He once told me that being a lord was like being a father…except you have thousands of children, and you worry about all of them. From the lords who swore him fealty to the farmers ploughing their fields, they were his to protect. He once told me…he woke with fear in the morning, and went to bed with fear in the night…" Robb said, looking over to see that Margaery was looking at him with those big brown eyes of hers, and it didn't seem like a King and another man's Queen, they were just two young people talking of their woes and the burdens of nobility.

"I've never heard Lord Eddard Stark be called fearful." Margaery said with a small smile to Robb who chuckled and nodded sadly.

"I didn't believe him either. I asked him…how can a man be brave if he's afraid? And he said to me…that's the only time a man _can_ be brave." Robb said, swalloing away a thickness in his throat and a burning in his eyes to look up to Margaery who extended a small slender hand to grasp Robb's own calloused palm for just a moment of comfort.

"I wish I could have met him…" Margaery said quietly as she released Robb's hand.

"He would have liked you…" Robb returned, causing Margaery to give a soft laugh and a shake of her head.

"How can you be so sure he'd like me?"

"Because _I_ do." Robb said simply, causing Margaery's cheeks to flush, even in the cold darkness.

"Would you…would you care to walk with me a little longer, King Robb?"

"You don't have to call me that…and I don't think we've been walking for some time, my lady." Robb smiled, before offering her his arm. They took a slow walk on the outskirts of the camp, away from the prying eyes of any guards or bannermen who could see them, and instead they sat on a hill with the moon high above their heads, talking late into the night of everything and anything.

Robb learned about Margaery's family, of her brothers Willas and Garlan who he had yet to meet, and who Margaery assured would get along with Robb far better than Loras.

"Believe me, Garlan is a far more impressive warrior than Loras. He just doesn't seek the glory. He's married to Leonette, and she's lovely and they're so adorably and disgustingly perfect together." Margaery laughed as she sat cross-legged across from Robb picking the petals off a daisy.

"And Willas truly still speaks to the Red Viper? I cannot believe it to be true. If a man had done that to me, I couldn't have ever forgiven him." Robb said earnestly, causing Margaery to smile and shrug.

"Willas is…so wise. Truly, he's taught me a lot about forgiveness, and even despite his leg, he will be an amazing Lord of the Reach."

"I believe you. I haven't even met him yet, but I believe you." Robb smiled, causing Margaery herself to smile down at the daisy after giving Robb a long glance over the top of her eyelashes with her head tilted down.

He learned about Lord Mace Tyrell and his profound wish for his daughter to be a Queen, of Lady Olenna Tyrell and how she was Margaery's truest mentor.

Margaery in turn learned about Robb's childhood at Winterfell. Of Sansa, Arya, Bran and Rickon. And of Jon.

"I'd heard about Ned Stark's bastard." Margaery said at the mention of 'Jon Snow'

"He's not a bastard. He is my brother." Robb said, looking up to her seriously.

"I'm sorry, I did not mean any offence."

"You didn't…I'm sorry. I miss him. He would have been my right hand throughout all of this. He would be fighting for father and counselling me in what was right. There's no one I trusted more than him. He is my blood, and when I return to the North, I intend to name him a Stark of Winterfell. He deserves as much."

"Why not write to him? To the Night's Watch and ask for his leave to fight with you? They could certainly spare one man, and with the promise of his return and perhaps supplies and more men from House Stark, how could they refuse?" Margaery did not realize she had placed a hand on Robb's knee until she withdrew it.

"You-..you're very right…I will do that as soon as I have a raven. Thank you, Margaery…" Robb said sincerely, freezing when Margaery went incredibly pale and deathly still.

"R-Rob-Robb." she stammered, grabbing his wrist as Grey-Wind's yellow eyes peered at Margaery through the darkness behind Robb and slowly began to pad his away over to them.

"What is i-? Oh. Gods be good, Wolf, you nearly scared the Queen to death. Come say sorry." Robb said, causing the huge beast to tamely trot over and sit on his haunches beside Robb before Margaery.

"This is Grey-Wind, my wolf. My father-he...we found him, and his litter before...before everything happened to my family. He's my best friend, really. Say helo, Grey-Wind." Robb said, patting his wolf affectionately. Grey-Wind whined and tilted his head at Margaery who laughed and reached a shaking hand out to scratch his ears.

"Margaery is a friend, you hear?" Robb told the wolf, who growled at his master in an almost sarcastic manner before he circled Margaery and settled down right beside her to keep her warm and so she could continue stroking him. This only caused Robb and Margaery to laugh.

"He is a monster on the battle field, a complete little puppy when he's around friends." Robb grinned.

They continued to speak of what they had wanted to do when they were children, and Margaery learned that Robb had wanted to be an adventurer, to travel the Seven Kingdoms as a rogue protector of the good and the innocent, and Robb learned that Margaery had always wanted to be a Queen because she had always wanted to help people, but being born in Westeros meant that she had had to harden up quickly and learned to grow her thorns to protect herself and her desires.

"For now…all I can do is sit pretty as Renly makes his ever-slow trek to King's Landing. Only then maybe can I actually start doing some good." She said with a sigh, throwing the stalk of what was once a daisy aside.

"I never thought things would be this difficult at sixteen. I thought I'd only just have a betrothal organized, and summer was still in its strength. Not war, not death." She said, leaning to lie on Grey's Wind massive sleeping form.

"I thought I'd still be learning from my father on what it was to be Lord of Winterfell as well. I never really thought on my marriage too much in all honesty. I always thought my parents would arrange it when it was time."

"And now?" Margaery asked, glancing up at Robb who looked at her and curled his lips with feelings he couldn't even understand.

"And now I am to decide on my own bride. And it appears it is to be a Frey." And then Robb told her about his marriage pact, and with each word he seemed to grow more desolate, and unseen to Robb as did Margaery.

"It was a tactical choice you had to make at the time." Margaery finally said after a long moment had passed between the two.

"Aye…it seemed so important…I needed to get to father then and there…and it just…seems all for nothing now."

"She-…do you like her?" Margaery asked with a smile that was real enough to fool Robb.

"I haven't even met her…" Robb sighed "But I must honor my oath. The Freys number 4000 of my river troops."

"I didn't meet Renly until the day I married him." Margaery admitted forlornly.

"And how do you feel now?" Robb asked causing Margaery to look up at him with her golden brown eyes vividly hollow.

"Wonderful." She said in a monotone that caused Robb to offer her a sad smile.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be." Margaery smiled back to him.

"Gods be good, I've kept the Queen from her King all night. I'll surely be executed." Robb said as the sky slowly brightened from a deep black into a navy blue. Margaery merely snorted as she rose to elegantly dust her skirts of grass. Grey-Wind rose to shoot off into the trees for an early morning hunt, leaving the two nobles alone.

"I am more than confident he didn't miss me." She said with a tone that Robb had learned meant she was not happy. But instead of prying, Robb decided to remain silent. He accepted her hand and rose to stand close to her for a moment, holding her golden brown eyes with his own piercing blue eyes.

"You…you are-…" Robb said softly, before Margaery leaned forward to peck his cheek.

"Let it not be said, Robb. Had we met sooner…things could have been different. But I am married to Renly, and you are to wed a Frey…we cannot." Margaery said quietly, taking his hands in hers.

"I know…" Robb sighed, looking from their hands back to her eyes. "I wish things could have been different…"

"So do I…" she whispered, placing a hand to the side of his face, before turning on her heel to walk back to the camps quickly. Robb merely sighed, and sank back to sit on the ground, watching her go.


	3. Chapter 3

When dawn finally broke, Robb walked back to his tent to find Renly's page waiting for him and his Northmen in a frenzy as to where he had been. Robb glowered at Robin Flint until he bowed his head before his King.

"I am not a child, Robin. I was walking the camps. What word do you have for me, boy?" Robb asked the page who timidly stepped forward.

"His Grace, King Renly, asks for your audience at once with Lord Petyr Baelish."

"Baelish?" barked Patrek Mallister, who stepped forward to counsel his King.

"Your Grace, at Seagard we heard tales of what Lord Baelish did."

"The tales were told at Winterfell and the camps as well, Patrek. The man held a knife to my father's throat and sent him to the stocks. He will die as well." Robb said, securing his sword in its sheath.

"Robin, Daryn. Join me." Robb said nothing else as the three Northmen marched for Renly Baratheon's tent.

* * *

"Where is he?" Robb demanded when he entered the tent only for Renly to rise from his chair.

"On his way. And I do urge some patience. If the Lannisters sent him here, something is afoot."

"Aye. And after we learn what it is, I will have Petyr Baelish's head." Robb clarified, taking the seat that a squire had just provided for him beside Renly's own chair.

"He doesn't know you're here, so it should be a good laugh to see his face." Renly sighed, cracking his knuckles as another page walked in.

"Lord Petyr Baelish." Announced the young man, before Baelish entered to freeze upon seeing sight of Robb.

"I-…I-..I had not expected-."

"Do you know what? I think that's the first time he's speechless, King Robb." Renly grinned, as Robb merely glowered at Baelish.

"Your Grace, Your Grace. I was told Lady Catelyn would be here as an envoy…not…the King-in-the-North himself." Baelish said, seemingly recovering quickly as he moved into the tent to bow before Robb and Renly.

"I don't like his face. Do you like his face, Robb?" Renly asked folding his arms to stare at Baelish like he was a fascinatingly disgusting oddity.

"No." Robb growled singularly, causing Baelish to gulp.

"I see I have no friends to make here, and though that grieves me greatly. I did not come here to seek your affection." Those words caused Renly to laugh and rise from his chair, he moved to a fruit bowl where he picked a pear and spoke.

"So you do the Lannister's bidding now? Was my brother's body even cold before you transferred your allegiance?"

"I'm a practical man." Baelish said parting his hands in the air.

"Just not a loyal one." Renly said through a mouthful of pear.

"Who would you have me be loyal to? Your brother's corpse?"

"I don't like you, Lord Baelish. You see Robb Stark there, he likes you even less than I do. We don't like your face. We don't like your voice. We don't like the slimy words that come oozing out of your slimy mouth. So before Robb convinces me to have you executed, tell us now. Why are you here?" Renly demanded, causing Baelish to look at everyone in the room.

"I would prefer we spoke on this alone, King Renly."

"No, no. You can trust, Brienne. And whatever you wish to say about Starks, they live by honor till it damns them. So. Speak." Renly said impatiently.

"Very well…you still have many friends at court, Your Grace…many who believe that Ned Stark," Baelish paused to glance at Robb nervously "erred by not supporting your claim. A mistake his son seems to wish not to repeat-."

"I will kill you where you stand." Robb growled through clenched teeth.

"So much like your father and uncles, _King Robb_." Baelish smiled, causing Robb to clench his fist.

"Renly…" Robb exhaled with a growl.

"Oh I understand now. He knows we have the numbers. He knows that we will soon ally ourselves. He knows we're marching on King's Landing, and he hopes that when I take the throne, he will retain his position. And his head." Renly smirked, rolling his pear in his hand as he sat back down.

"I would give priority to my head, Your Grace." Baelish said, glancing once more at Robb.

"I understand that neither of you care for me. But when you march on King's Landing, you may find yourself facing a protracted siege…or open gates…" Baelish let his last two words emphasize themselves in the silence that followed.

"Nope. Sorry. Don't trust you. Have at him, Robb. Try not to make a mess." Renly said, leaning back to take another bite of his pear.

"You can't be seri-…Robb. Wait-! Wait! I have something for you. An offer from Tyrion Lannister."

"Ah, here we go…you see! There's always something else afoot." Renly said, leaning forward to clap his hands together "What was the offer for Robb then?"

"An exchange of prisoners. Your sisters for the Kingslayer."

"Oh please! _Jamie Lannister_ for two girls? My bannermen would string me up by my feet. I love my sisters, but I will free them from Joffrey in my own way."

"He thought you might say that…so he's offered this exchange of prisoners in good faith." Baelish said hurriedly, clapping his hands to call two Silent Sisters into the tent with a heavy chest between them.

"What is this…?" Robb asked angrily as he rose from his chair.

"Good Gods…will you people know no end to this madness?" Renly breathed as Robb moved shakily forward to place his hands on the chest.

"Your father was an honorable man…he deserves to rest beside his family in the crypts beneath Winterfell…" Baelish said slowly as Robb's hands shook.

"Get him out…" Robb breathed shakily to Renly who shrugged and nodded to Brienne to escort Baelish away.

"My father…is in a chest…" Robb breathed, his hands shaking, only for Daryn and Robin to come forward and place their hands on his back before relieving the Silent Sisters of the chest.

"To my tent…get him to my tent." Robb said, before turning to have sole audience with Renly.

"This man mocks me and my family. He must die." Robb demanded, for Renly to sigh and shake his head.

"You must think about this logically, Robb. A siege at the city gates could last weeks, maybe months. The walls of King's Landing are strong, and unless we assault the Mud Gate by sea, we will be lost. Stannis could attack me from the rear at any given moment."

"Perhaps it is Stannis I should have gone to, for he would have understood a man's right to vengeance." Robb spat, for Renly only to tilt his head.

"An alliance with Stannis would see you both killed. You know that. Stop acting like a boy, Robb Stark. This is the game of thrones, and vengeance must often be foregone in the name of power."

"The game of-… _Seven Hells_!" Robb strode out of Renly's tent in a fury, nearly running straight into Margaery.

"Robb!" Margaery exclaimed in worry, clasping his shoulders in concern as they nearly collided before she stepped a respectable distance away from him.

"I am sorry, my lady. I cannot speak at present." Robb said, bowing to her stiffly, as he wished to speak to her more than anyone else at present, but there were far too many people around for Robb and Margaery to be themselves.

Margaery herself turned with furrowed eyebrows to walk into Renly's tent.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Hope you liked it! Do review :)**


	4. Chapter 4

Two days and one night had passed since Robb's arrival to the Reach and he was no closer to securing Renly's alliance than he was winning his sister's freedom. He was anxious, he was angry and he was also feeling desire for a woman that could never be his. That same night, Robb sat in his tent looking at the heavy chest that contained his father's remains with a lone tear trailing down his face.

"Why did you have to go south?" Robb whispered, hanging his head down as he took a deep breath. Never seeing Margaery enter his tent silently, dressed in one of the gold and black surcoats of Renly's squires and a helm to hide her hair. She removed the helm to let her hair fall down her shoulders when she was safely in Robb's tent.

"Robb?" she asked quietly, moving forward to shrug the surcoat off to reveal yet another stunning gown of hers.

"Margar-…you shouldn't be here…Renly will be-…"

"Renly is otherwise occupied, I am where I wish to be." She said silencing him with a few simple words as she sat beside him on his cot.

"I heard…" she said softly, throwing a small glance to the chest in the room.

"I want him to die, Margaery. He betrayed my father…" Robb said through gritted teeth as Margaery clasped his hands in hers.

"He will. Renly hates him, as does half the realm. He won't survive this war. I promise you. I hate him. The lecherous little worm." She said, cringing as she spoke.

"He just spoke to me outside, and tried to imply-…it's not important…he was right…but…no I shouldn't…" Margaery rambled, shaking her head as she spoke, until Robb placed his hand on her knee.

"What is it?" he asked so quietly and so sincerely that she went silent for a moment as they held each other's gazes.

"Renly is-…Renly is all they say he is. I am sworn to be his wife, his Queen. But he will not lie with me. He cannot. That is not his way, though a King needs a Queen and an heir. This is Westeros after all…" Margaery said bitterly. "I will honor Renly, I am sworn to do so. For he is my King and he is my husband. But he does not honor me in the same way. And…I-…when I imagined myself Queen, Robb, I never imagined that my King would not want me…" she said, tearing up slightly at the end of her explanation. Robb did not think as he put his arm around her to comfort her, she leaned against his chest and sniffed.

"You deserve far better…and I know for a fact that there are men, _Kings_ who want you. But you…you are an honorable woman. As much as I wish we could both throw honor beneath us, you were right when you said this cannot be so. You are Renly's Queen. Not mine." Robb said quietly into her hair, before placing a kiss on the top of her head. Margaery sniffed once more before sitting up.

"I wish things could have been different." She said quietly.

"So do I." he swore, taking her hand in his briefly.

"I should go…this is…difficult." She sighed, rising from the bed to pick up the helm and surcoat once more. She gave Robb one last sad look of longing before she disappeared through the gap in his tent.

* * *

Robb did not sleep at all that night, and when he saw Margaery the next morning he could tell that she hadn't either. They exchanged one brief smile in the morning before falling into the masks they needed to wear. Renly had risen early for word had come from Storm's End of Stannis besieging the castle. He, Margaery, Ser Loras, Robb, Dacey Mormont and Smalljon Umber were in his tent discussing Renly's intent.

"I cannot allow this to happen. He has a naval advantage over us that cannot be ignored. I intend to ride with my full mounted force for Storm's End, leaving the infantry camped here at Bitterbridge. Will your Northmen join us?" Renly asked Robb, who greatly disliked the notion of riding further south from his main host and King's Landing.

"I think that you should consider your options before rushing off to battle Stannis. Storm's End may be his, but King's Landing could be yours if you continue your march. Tywin Lannister sits in Harrenhal and my host is exposed in Ashemark. These delays will cost lives, Renly. Maybe even ours. I urge you not to fall into Stannis' trap." Robb counseled, only for Renly to look at him for a long, long moment before finally standing to face Robb.

"Robb, ride with me to Storm's End and fight my brother, and we will unite with common cause to eliminate the Lannisters and the Greyjoys." Robb exhaled through his nostrils before shaking Renly's hand begrudgingly.

"Let us not waste time. Dacey, Jon, mount up."

* * *

 **Author's Note: Hope you guys are liking it so far. Would love some feedback :)**  
 **I'm really powering through at the moment, so let's hope this speed is consistent.**


	5. Chapter 5

Storm's End was a castle nearly as formidable as Winterfell, and Robb had to remember that his ancestor had supposedly assisted in the erection of this castle too. Stannis had agreed to a parley as soon as Renly arrived, and Robb himself was invited to join Renly's party as they met on a hill some ways away from the castle. Stannis was himself accompanied by a Red Priestess and Ser Davos Seaworth.

When the two parties trotted to meet each other, Robb was amazed at the difference between Renly and Stannis and the bitterness between two men who were brothers by blood.

"Robb Stark, is it? I had not thought to see you in the Stormlands."

"I had not thought to be here, Lord Stannis." Robb said with a touch of impatience in his voice.

"Robb's a King now. Just like you and I. Gods above, can that truly be you, Stannis?" Renly asked, peering at his older brother closer.

"Who else might it be?" Stannis barked back only for Renly to chuckle.

"Well, when I saw your standard I couldn't be sure. Whose banner is that?" Renly asked curiously as though they were not treating on terms of war, but rather on the designs of their standards.

"My own." Stannis said tersely, only for Renly to smile again.

"I suppose if we used the same one, the battle would be terribly confusing."

"I don't see you flying Robert's banners either, Renly."

"That's because Robert is dead, dear brother. And he took _his_ crowned stag to the grave with him. This is my own banner. Rather more striking I think." Renly said glancing up to the crowned silver stag on a blue background "Why's your stag on fire?" Renly inquired. Robb could not believe what he was hearing. Was this a parley? Were these men truly brothers? He could not imagine interacting with Bran or Jon the way Stannis and Renly were doing now.

"The King has taken for his sigil the fiery heart of the Lord of Light." The Red Woman finally spoke up, her accent clearly foreign. Robb did not like this woman, he decided plainly. She had an aura of darkness, decay and death.

"Ah, you must be this 'fire priestess' we hear so much about." Renly chuckled, turning his attention to her "Oh brother…now I finally understand why you found religion in your old age." Renly's words caused the tension in the group to rise as Stannis snapped angrily.

"Watch yourself, Renly."

"No, no, I'm relieved. I never really believed you were a fanatic." Renly said, sounding rather bored suddenly "Charmless, rigid, a boor, yes. But not a godly man."

"You should kneel before your brother." The Red Woman spat at Renly "He is the Lord's chosen. Born amidst salt and smoke."

Renly began to laugh before quoting her back to herself " _Born amidst salt and smoke?_ Is he a ham?" Renly laughed only for Stannis to blister some more.

"That's twice I've warned you." He growled at his brother.

"Brothers Baratheon, please. If I may interject, listen to yourselves. You men are brothers. You grew up in the same castle together. Robert was your elder brother. If my brothers fought like this, our mother would knock our heads together and lock us in a room until we remembered we were family."

"It is strange to find you beside my brother, Robb Stark. Your father was a supporter of my claim, Lord Eddard's integrity cost him his head. And you sit beside this pretender and chastise me?" Stannis demanded of Robb.

"We share a common enemy, my lord. The Lannisters killed your brother and my father. I wish for my remaining family in their captivity to live. My father did not expect to die, no man ever does. But I must do what I think is right to honor him and my family. You are both of the same House. Why bleed each other when the true enemy is in King's Landing? I speak wisdom that neither of you wish to acknowledge."

"The Iron Throne is _mine_ by right!" Stannis declared loudly.

"All those that deny that are my foes." Stannis said, causing Robb to sigh and sit back in his saddle.

"I am not your foe, Lord Stannis."

"No, no, Robb. The whole realm denies him, you see, from Dorne to the Wall. Old men deny him with their death rattle and unborn children deny him in their mother's wombs. No one wants you for their King." Renly said in his first serious speech of the day.

"You never wanted any friends, brother. But a man without friends is a man without power." Renly declared bitterly to Stannis who tilted his head to glower at Renly.

"For the sake of the mother who bore us, I will give you this one night to reconsider. Strike your banners, come to me before dawn and I'll grant you your old seat on the Council. I'll even name you my heir…until a son is born to me." Stannis said to Renly calmly "Otherwise I shall destroy you."

Renly merely laughed and looked over his shoulder.

"Look across those fields, brother. Do you see all those banners?" Renly asked

"Do you think a few bolts of cloth will make you King?" Stannis asked, for Renly to turn his gaze sharply towards him.

"No. The men holding those bolts of cloth will make me King." Renly stated with a growl that Robb had never heard from the man before.

"We shall see, Renly. Come the dawn. We shall see." Stannis said, tugging at the reins of his horse and turning his back on his brother.

"Look to your sins, Lord Renly. The night is dark and full of terrors." The Red Woman said coldly to Renly before joining Stannis in his retreat.

"Would you believe…I loved him once?" Renly said bitterly before tugging on his own reins and riding for camp. Robb said nothing to Renly as they returned to camp. He said nothing until he was alone with his own Northmen.

* * *

"Pack and be ready to ride at once. I will not stay here to get between two brothers and their feud while there is a war to be won. I will make one last attempt to negotiate with Renly. Then we leave." Robb declared, setting the Northmen in a flurry of activity.

* * *

It was only when night finally fell did Renly call Robb to his tent.

"I am told you're leaving." Renly said, looking up from his desk with Brienne and Loras on either side of him.

"I cannot afford to stay here any longer, nor ask my men to stay encamped at Ashemark. I need an answer, Renly. Will we unite in battle?"

"Before I can give you an answer, I need some of my own. Answer me these questions true. Why are you fighting this war?"

"They killed my father, they have my sisters hostage. So long as Joffrey is alive and Cersei is in power, we will never be free. My people will never be free."

"And why did you name yourself King in the North and Trident?"

"I didn't. My bannermen did. Something you will understand well, I gather. I fought for the Northmen and I fought for the Riverlords. They gave me their oaths of fealty."

"And you have no desire to sit on the Iron Throne?"

"Gods, are you jesting with me? No. I only want to go _home_. I want all my men and soldiers to go home."

"You swear it?"

"By the Old Gods and the New. I have no desire to sit on the Iron Throne." Robb declared, only for Renly to raise his goblet of wine to his lips.

"Then I see no reason for hostility between us, Robb." Renly smiled "You may carry on calling yourself King-in-the-North. The Starks will have dominion over all lands North of The Neck, provided that you swear me an oath of fealty."

"A _what_?" Robb asked with his eyebrows raised.

"An oath of fealty with the words that your father said to my brother seventeen years ago."

"The Riverlords will make their own decision as to who they pledge fealty to. I will protect them until they say otherwise."

"Fine, fine. North and Trident, whatever you like. So long as you swear me fealty." Renly said persistently. "Ned Stark and Robert's friendship held the Kingdoms together." Robb clenched his jaw and looked to Renly hardly.

"My Northmen answer to me and to House Stark. The Riverlords answer to House Tully who are sworn to House Stark. House Stark will answer your calls when heeded upon, so long as the Iron Throne continues the trade and diplomatic relationship it held with the North and the Riverlands prior to King Robert's death."

"These are steep demands."

"The Riverlands have suffered most in this war. They will need resources to heal and to replenish before winter comes, or else you won't have much of a Westeros to rule." Robb stated plainly.

"Very well. In the morning we will destroy Stannis and his army, and then Baratheon and Stark will fight their common enemy together, as they have always done." Renly smiled, rising from his chair to raise his hands wide.

"I urge you to reconsider this battle with Stannis. He is your brother. Negotiate a peace with him." Robb said, turning in his chair to speak to Renly as he walked around his tent to have his armor removed by Loras and Brienne.

"Negotiate with Stannis? You heard him out there!" Renly said incredulously as Loras and Brienne removed his chest plate "I'd have better luck debating the wind." Renly chuckled before turning in his tunic to face Robb.

"Consider my terms, Robb. We are natural allies, and together we could end this war in a fortnight." Renly smiled, turning back to face the mirror.

Robb glanced to the gap in the tent where wind was furiously making the flap leap around. Robb froze as the shadows of the night clawed their way into the tent and took impossible form in the shape of a man. Robb could not comprehend what he was seeing, a shadow…taken shape and substance. Loras and Brienne watched as Robb did as the shadow flew to Renly…and pierced his chest with a sword of darkness. Renly spluttered as the shadow pulled away swiftly, letting blood spurt from his heart to the ground. The shadow turned to Robb, losing its potent dark form with every second in the brightness of the tent, it pounced onto Robb and sent him rolling. He felt something impossibly strong smash into his chest plate as he laid on the ground, and before he could do much else, Brienne of Tarth smashed a burning torch through the shadow's form, sending darkness around the tent for a single moment before it vanished.

Brienne and Loras both then screamed. Screams of loss, shock and grief that brought soldiers pouring into the tent, Robb himself was slumped to the ground, struggling to breathe.

"Take King Robb to the Maester!" Loras managed to choke out as the Northmen charged in to surround Robb who slowly faded into unconsciousness.

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 **Author's Note: Nooo, Renly. I enjoyed writing him. Hope you guys enjoyed reading him :)**


	6. Chapter 6

When he awoke, it was a few hours later and his armor was being removed.

"No! NO! Leave it!" Robb demanded, sitting upright to push the Maester off him. Grey-Wind began to howl outside the tent as Robb rose to his feet, silencing only when Robb glanced upward to the shadow of his wolf through the fabric of the tent.

"Renly. Where is Renly?" Robb demanded, stumbling to be caught by Daryn Hornwood, one of his personal guard.

"Your Grace…he perished…Ser Loras Tyrell and Lady Brienne of Tarth, they have gone mad with grief. They claim…it was a shadow…a _shadow_ killed King Renly…"

"It did. I was there…" Robb panted, before finally looking down to see a dent in his chest plate with a single black crack running along its metal.

"I must speak to the Tyrells." Robb breathed heavily, pushing himself into standing position.

When Robb regained his strength, dawn had broken and Stannis' ships were sailing for the shore. In what was once Renly's tent laid his body, guarded only by Loras and Brienne, with Margaery beside the body. Robb walked in cautiously.

"My lord, my ladies."

"Robb! Oh thank the Gods, I thought you'd also-…it doesn't matter." Margaery had at first moved to take his hands, but moved away once more when she remembered where they were.

"You live." Brienne noted hollowly "It was your armor. Your armor protected you. We never should have taken his off…" Brienne continued in the hollow tone of hers.

"We need to go home." Margaery finally said after a few moments of pacing and Robb remaining silent by her side. "Loras!" Margaery exclaimed, soliciting no reply from the grieving Loras Tyrell.

Only when Petyr Baelish wormed his way into the tent did Loras speak.

" _Get out!_ " Loras growled so ferociously that Robb almost felt fear for himself.

"Stannis will be here in an hour. When he arrives, Renly's bannermen will flock to him. Your former companions will fight for the privilege of selling you to their new king…" Loras was up and had his sword in Baelish's face so quick, Robb could have blinked and missed it all.

"And you want that privilege for yourself?!" Loras demanded of Baelish who merely tilted his head.

"You will note that I am standing here talking to you. Not Stannis." Baelish said calmly. Margaery moved to push Loras' arm away.

"There's no time for this! Loras!"

"Ride back to Highgarden with Robb Stark, sister. I'm not running from Stannis." Loras declared returning to Renly's side.

"Loras…Renly couldn't have…died the way you say-…"

"I was there, Margaery…" Robb said quietly, causing her to look towards him and pale when she saw the dent in his armor.

"Who gained the most from our King's death?" Loras asked them all quietly, only for Baelish to answer.

"Stannis."

"Then I will put a sword through his righteous face!" Loras roared, rising from his chair in grief to pace the tent angrily.

"He would have been a true king. A good king…" Loras said through a barely concealed sob.

"Tell me, Ser Loras. What do you desire most in this world?" Baelish asked in a tone that made Robb's skin crawl with distrust.

"Revenge." Loras said plainly.

"I have always found that to be the purest of motivations. But you won't have the chance to put your sword through Stannis. Not today. You'd be cut to pieces before he sets foot on solid ground. If it is justice that you want, be smart about it." Baelish said stepping closer to Loras.

"You can't avenge him from the grave…" Margaery said quietly to Loras.

"These men came to the Stormlands with a King. They will not leave wi-…" Margaery began, before looking up to Robb suddenly.

"They need a King. These men were loyal to Renly but will turn to Stannis because they have no other option. Let us give them an option. Let us give them Robb." Margaery said, causing everyone in the room to stare at her for several long moments.

"That is madness." Robb finally stated, only to be agreed with by the one person in the tent he trusted less than Renly's cold corpse.

"I-…do not-…I believe that it is best if we-…" Baelish stammered, nodding his head.

"Silence, Baelish. Brienne, put him in irons and gag him. His voice irks me." Loras commanded, before slowly rising to face Robb, a new attitude having taken the Knight of Flowers. His grief quickly shifting from sadness to black fury.

"Margaery could be right. They would follow you. Any man is better than _Stannis_ and his Red Whore. Especially the son of this country's most honorable man…" Loras said to Margaery thoughtfully who nodded her head in agreement.

"Think of the morale the men would have fighting for Robb, they'd have a clearer purpose. A truer motive. Renly was usurping the Throne, Robb would be claiming vengeance for his family. He would rule us well." Margaery said, flashing Robb a small smile as her brother rubbed his eyes in deep thought.

"I agree. Damn it, I agree. You know what this would mean though, don't you?" Loras asked Robb, gazing at him strongly.

"This would mean that you would want me to eventually face Stannis. It would mean that I would have to claim the Iron Throne." Robb said after a moment

"It would mean you would have to wed my sister. Highgarden will not support you without Margaery as Queen. And I-…I will not support you unless you promise me justice." Loras said furiously. Robb looked to Margaery who gave him a smile so small, only he could see it.

"Only if you promise me the same." Robb said, offering Loras his hand. "In the name of good King Renly Baratheon." Robb promised, before Loras sniffed and kneeled before Robb.

"Robb of the House Stark, First of Your Name, King of the North and the Trident I, Ser Loras of the House Tyrell do swear to you my loyalty to your cause, and my sword to your protection."

"I-…I accept your oaths, Ser Loras." Robb said, before sighing and looking out the tent, he rose and the party joined him to leave Renly in rest. "Prepare the announcement, and have the camps be ready to mount a full silent assault on Stannis the moment he lands. Raise the peace banners, for I wish to keep his fleet strong for own appropriation to assault King's Landing by sea. It is not…the most honorable way to mount an attack. But Stannis is using…powers that I cannot even describe. Honor must be sacrificed for the safety of Westeros. He will expect me to be dead along with Renly. Let us not spoil the surprise for him just yet. Imprison any of the lords who would dissent. This is a very risky trap, and I would prefer if Margaery was away from the danger." Robb said, turning to look to her as they walked for the Northern tents.

"I agree. I will send our guard with her back to Bitterbridge." Loras said, bowing his head.

"Leave Baelish in her custody. I want to execute him myself when I am back in the North." Robb ordered, without glancing back at the gagged and bound Petyr Baelish.

"As you wish, Your Grace." Loras said, shoving a fearful and shocked Baelish away. Robb and Margaery walked until they were alone in his tent.

"Do you want to be a Queen?" Robb asked her finally after a few moments of gazing each other.

"No I want to be _your_ Queen." Margaery said before moving forward to embrace Robb passionately. The young Stark was caught off guard for only a moment before he began to kiss Margaery back with equal fervor.

"I am sorry for Renly…" Robb muttered when they pulled apart to graze their noses together, his arms were still around her and her hands were clasped around his neck.

"As am I…I don't wish to speak on it now. Much more could go wrong, and all I ask of you is to return to me."

"I promise."

"Do better, Robb Stark." She said with a small smile, before kissing him once more. "I'll be waiting for you." She said quietly before leaving his tent. Robb slowly sank to sit on his cot.

How had so much changed in less than a day? He was no longer fighting for the North, it seemed, but the entire Seven Kingdoms. How had this happened? Robb looked to the heavy chest in his tent once more.

"Father…guide me."

* * *

 **Author's Note: Do review! Hope everyone's enjoying it.**


	7. Chapter 7

Stannis frowned as his fleet made anchor on the shore. He frowned as his force rowed or paddled across the shallow waters to the lands of Storm's End where he would claim the bannermen who had erred to support his brother as his own. He frowned as he walked past lords and knights who bowed their heads to him and swore their loyalty with a simple "Your Grace" as he walked by.

"Banners?" Stannis barked to Ser Davos Seaworth who frowned and relayed that all of the banners that Renly had brought with him were present and dipped to swear fealty to Stannis, even the Northern banners remained present. Stannis found this pleasing. At least some of the Northmen knew their duty.

"I'm sorry about your brother, Your Grace. I wanted to let you know that the lords I have spoken to here grieve for him." Davos said grimly, glancing at Stannis as they walked.

"Fools love a fool. I grieve for him as well. The boy he was. Not the man he grew to be." Stannis said bluntly as they navigated their way to the royal tent.

"I need to speak to you about what I saw in that cave…" Davos whispered, causing Stannis' frown to deepen.

"I made it clear to you that there would be no need to speak to me on this matter." Stannis growled in a low tone.

"Your Grace…" Davos began cautiously

"I have never known you to have to hear a thing twice." Stannis declared as they entered the tent, only for Davos to frown himself at the scene before him.

Renly Baratheon's body was laid in rest upon a table with his crown upon his chest beneath his steepled fingers.

Robb Stark's body was laid in armor next to him, with a sword upon his own chest.

"Both of them?" Davos asked aghast.

"Aye. His father was an honorable man, but he was a pup who didn't know what was right. He went to Renly, and he tried to steal the Northern half of my kingdom. I've always served thieves what they deserve Ser Davos, you know this." Stannis said coldly, only for Davos to shake his own head at Stannis.

"Your brother wronged you, but he was still your brother. An innocent boy? Fighting for his father's justice? Where was the right in any of this?"

"Are you questioning me, Ser Davos? Because there is a cell you may retire yourself to if you continue to be too familiar."

"Familiar? Aye, I damn well might be! This Red Woman has poisoned you! A good man I followed into battle without question, Stannis Baratheon was. I gave him my fingers because I thought him a fair and just man. This…this was…blood magic!" Davos exclaimed as Stannis sank to his seat.

"Guards!" Stannis roared, only for nothing to happen. Davos himself looked confused for a moment, before Stannis stood with his fists on the desk to bellow once more "GUARDS!"

Five people entered the tent; Ser Loras Tyrell, Brienne of Tarth, Ser Robar Royce, Lord Arwyn Oakheart and Lord Randyll Tarly, all armed with their weapons drawn.

"Stannis Baratheon, in the name of our King, surrender yourself for the murder for Good King Renly Baratheon."

"Your King?! I AM YOUR KING!" Stannis roared, drawing his sword.

"No, actually. I am." Robb said, rising from the table with his own sword raised at Stannis, who was utterly stunned that Robb was alive.

"Spare Ser Davos, I believe he himself was about to incur Stannis' wrath. Ser Loras, Stannis' army?" Robb ordered, before nodding to Loras to speak.

"Captured by the forces dispatched to the castle, they believed they had been sent aid by "King" Stannis, until we declared our intent. They chose to fight rather than yield. Five hundred dead with many more wounded." Loras said with a sick sense of satisfaction to Stannis who turned a deep shade of purple.

"Lord Randyll, his fleet?" Robb asked the older man who tilted his head to answer Robb while never taking his eyes off Stannis.

"His Captains have been captured and our own men are in the process of claiming the ships. They are flying Stannis' banners, so they should face no trouble until they have boarded and begun their assault."

"And the Red Woman?" Robb finally asked, causing Stannis to finally react violently.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO HER?!"

"She somehow managed to kill twenty men before the archers managed to put her down. Her body is outside. It was… _unnatural_ , Your Grace. They bled from their mouths and eyes, some burst into flames for no reason! It was terrifying, but Brienne of Tarth and Ser Loras managed to put a crossbow bolts through her."

"YOU WILL BURN FOR THIS! ALL OF YOU!" Stannis roared, charging forward to slam his sword down onto Loras' blade, only for the Knight of Flowers to expertly parry his blade away and smash his pommel into Stannis' nose several times. Brienne herself joined the fight when Stannis knocked Loras away with a slam of his shoulder. Brienne moved with the agility of a water dancer, her longsword slashing through the air in the tent but only ever striking Stannis over and over again. Brienne roared before finally bringing her armored fist up to crush into Stannis' face, sending him tumbling to the ground, stunned.

"For Renly. You will hang." Loras spat down at Stannis, before stepping aside as Robar and Brienne moved to pick him up. Robb simply rubbed his eyes, a lot was happening and he had barely slept in days.

"Prepare the gallows, and have his Red Woman strung up next to him. Send word to Storm's End that Stannis has fallen. I want us resupplied and ready to ride for Bitterbridge by nightfall. Also if there is a raven to Ashemark at the castle, have it prepared for I have orders for the Northern host."

"YIELD! I YIELD!" Stannis roared as they dragged him away, Robb froze.

"Hold. Bring him back. Do you realize what you have done, Stannis?" Robb asked the older man solemnly.

"I-…I have failed-…"

"No. You murdered your own brother. Your younger brother. Someone you should have protected, and the Gods no matter which ones you follow will never forgive that. Ser Davos was right, the Red Woman poisoned you. Ser Loras would see your head on a pike now, but I feel as though…life on the Wall could also suit him."

"Robb! You promised me his head!" Loras exclaimed, moving forward to face Robb who sighed.

"I promised you justice, Ser Loras. Think about this, Loras. He will age, he will grow to realize what he has done…and the guilt will kill him far more painfully than you ever could. Do you see that?" Robb implored.

"Renly himself would not have killed Stannis, and you know that as well as I. Let him take the black and live his days as a kinslayer." Every word that Robb said seemed to resonate with both Loras and Stannis, the latter of whom began to sob in horror.

"I murdered my brother…" Stannis whispered to himself, staring at his own hands shackled in irons "No…no…let Loras take my head now. I cannot…I…Renly…Gods! RENLY!" Stannis roared, making to move to Renly's body only for Brienne to roughly shove him back.

"No. I will not give you the quick death you desire, Stannis. I exile you to the Wall, to live out the remainder of your days as a man of the Night's Watch, nothing more and nothing less. Have him imprisoned here in Storm's End until the war is over and we have a sloop to spare to send him North. Have Ser Davos looked after. I wish to speak to him soon." Robb declared, with Loras and Brienne dragging a broken Stannis out to leave Robb with Lord Tarly and Lord Oakheart.

"I wish you both to ride with me at the fore as we return to Bitterbridge. It is a common practice I make to get to know my lords and commanders, I hope you honor me by accepting." They both of course accepted without much more prompting, leaving to assemble the troops to march at dusk. Robb approached Renly's body slowly.

"We could have done it together…I'm sorry it had to end this way for you…" Robb said quietly, before placing a hand on Renly's shoulder.

"Rest well, Good King Renly." Robb said before departing the tent.


	8. Chapter 8

Author's Note: Just a small chapter of Robb reuniting with the host at Bitterbridge.

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Upon securing Storm's End, Robb left Ser Cortnay Penrose as Castellan of the castle, Renly's own chosen Castellan. He knew he would have to settle the matter of the succession of Storm's End once he took the Iron Throne. The prospect did not please him, but it was made much easier with the knowledge that Robert Baratheon had fathered multiple bastards. It would not be the first time a bastard became a great lord, Robb's own ancestor had been the bastard son of Bael the Bard, a Wildling who had become a King-Beyond-the-Wall that had been slain by his own son who had been named the Lord of Winterfell in the absence of any male Stark heirs.

As soon as Storm's End was secure Robb rode at the fore of a host of that was now his towards Bitterbridge. It was odd for the young Stark to see the banners of his House flying proudly across great columns of mounted soldiers that had once belonged to Renly Baratheon, whose body had been interred in the tombs of Storm's End in a solemn but honorable funeral before the newly-formed Stark host had marched out.

At Bitterbridge, Robb reunited with Margaery and the full host that Renly had commanded, some 100, 000 strong. The banners of the crowned silver stag upon blue had been replaced by the grey direwolf upon a white field. As he rode through the camps, a slow chant began to take place.

 _"King…Robb! King…Robb! KING! ROBB! KING! ROBB! **KING! ROBB!**_ " ****Robb hoped he did not blush as he rode ahead through the camp for the royal tent where a vision of beauty dressed in grey and white waited for him with a beam. Robb dismounted his horse to approach Margaery with eyes for no one else, he embraced her before his men to cheers of approval, before he turned back to face them all, his hand in hers.

"King Renly Baratheon promised you King's Landing. I can do no less." Robb stated, his words carrying across the crowd.

"Prepare yourselves, good sers and good lords. We march at dawn." Robb called to roars and cheers, before he raised his hand and marched into the royal tent with Margaery's hand in his own. Randyll Tarly, Arwyn Oakheart, Dacey Mormont, Smalljon Umber, Patrek Mallister, Darryn Hornwood and Loras Tyrell joined them.

"Word must be sent to my Northern host at Ashemark at once. They must approach Harrenhal from the North in a fortnight at the latest. I intend to take King's Landing in less than two moons. Lord Oakheart, I name you Grand Admiral of the Royal Stark Fleet seized from Stannis Baratheon. Patrek Mallister will serve as your First. Lord Randyll, you will lead the vanguard into King's Landing with Ser Loras. Jon, Dacey, Darryn I wish for my guard to be ever present by my side. The problem we face now my lords, is the position of Lord Walder Frey, to whom I had originally promised a betrothal."

"The Old Ferret of the Twins is no concern for you, Your Grace. If he is wise, he will keep his silence." Lord Oakheart bristled importantly only to receive a look of disdain from Randyll Tarly.

"Frey is as dangerous as any man, Your Grace. I suggest you end the pact with the Freys at once. He will try to betray you. I suggest you let him show his hand. It is high time the line of Frey has ended."

"I am not a slaughterer, Lord Tarly. The Frey host will assuredly return home upon knowledge I have married my lady. I wish that I could be there to deal with the fallout myself, but I have little time. I need a rider, someone fast and reliable, someone who can cut their way through this blood-ravaged country on their own. Any ideas?" Robb asked his council, looking from one face to the other, until his eyes landed on his betrothed, whose sharp gaze held his with a knowing glint in her eye.

"Brienne of Tarth." Margaery said simply.


	9. Chapter 9

"You understand what I ask of you?" Robb said to Brienne as the two sat on their horses a little ways off from the main column of soldiers that marched on the Kingsroad for the capital. Robb and Brienne were facing the road to the Westerlands.

"I do, Your Grace. I promise to serve you as honorable as I served King Renly. And in turn, I hope that you will consider my service as your sworn shield upon my return."

"It would be my honor, Brienne of Tarth. Now ride with all haste, I beg of you." Robb declared, sending the warrior charging off with a respectful bow of her head. Robb turned his own mount to gallop towards the fore of his host.

Lords Tarly, Caron, Glover and Ser Loras were in the midst of a fierce debate when Robb joined them. They silenced quickly, leaving a tense and awkward silence.

"Someone had better tell me what is going on, before I name some the footmen as my new generals. Speak." Robb commanded, causing the nobles to all begin speaking at once

"-Your small council requires noble lords of-."

"-It would be in your best interest to appoint an experienced man of-."

"-Your Grace, I would serve you loyally-."

"-I have supported your cause long before-."

"-Your KIngsguard requires a man who will take your protection seriously-."

"My lords, MY LORDS! ENOUGH!" Robb called, his commander's voice carrying across the field and silencing the men many years his senior. And Ser Loras.

"We must first capture King's Landing, and when Winterfell is free, I will think on my small council and the rewards you deserve. Prove to me now that you deserve them by focusing on the battles ahead. Lord Mallister, report on the fleet." Robb said with the true air of the King he would be.

"They set sail when we marched out, Your Grace. By my estimates, and if the wind is on our side, King's Landing should be besieged by sea only a few hours before we arrive by land."

"Aye. I expect the Lannisters will have something waiting for us. Lord Oakheart has been instructed to send Stannis' ships in first has he not?"

"He has, Your Grace. They will land at the Mudgate per the information extorted from Petyr Baelish."

"I do not like the idea of sending them in as sheep, but I will not sacrifice my own loyal men. This war…the sooner it is over, the better." Robb declared with a growl, before urging his horse onward, leaving behind his new vassals to seem oddly impressed by the young King they now served. Ser Loras merely shrugged and rode after him.

"I see you and Margaery are quite pleased with the new arrangement." Loras commented as they marched relentlessly for King's Landing. Robb turned to glance at Loras who offered a sad half-chuckle.

"Renly saw it a few days ago. So did I. We-we found it quite-…uh-…cute, I suppose you'd say. Renly felt sorry for the both of you. But here we are…" Loras sighed, glancing down.

"I'm sorry for your loss, Loras. He was a good man." Robb said again, causing the Knight of Flowers to sniff and nod before looking up with a steely look in golden brown eyes.

"You were right to send Stannis to the Wall. Renly would have wanted that more. A long death. Stannis hates the cold." Loras laughed bitterly.

"I hope to give you cause to serve me as loyally as you served Renly."

"Name me to your Kingsguard, and we shall see."

"I need to have a throne before I can do that." Robb countered yet again, forcing Loras to turn and look at him.

"A wary man you are, Robb Stark. But you are undefeated in battle, and have just won the greatest army in the Seven Kingdoms. You will sit on the Iron Throne. I know it." Loras said solemnly, causing Robb to sigh and nod.

"I should get used to the idea. Do you really wish to serve in the Kingsguard?" Robb asked curiously of the man who would be his brother by law.

"Aye. I do not wish to marry. I do not want lands. I wish to be by Margaery and to gain my fame as your stalwart shield. Allow me to do this." Loras said, looking to Robb with only a touch of desperation in his tone.

"When we take King's Landing, you'll need a white cloak, Ser Loras of the Kingsguard." Robb said with a nod before urging his horse onwards and leaving Loras to process the news.


	10. Chapter 10

The wind had indeed been on their side, but true to Robb's expectations Tyrion Lannister had prepared a trap that felled seven of their ships in a horrific explosion of wildfyre. It had been a one-time trick, something that Patrek Mallister, First Mate to Lord Oakheart had recognized. This allowed the majority of their fleet, hidden by the fog of Blackwater Bay to sail in after the fire had died down to begin a naval assault just as the main host arrived by land.

Robb stood at the fore of his incredible host, looking over at the city gates, before he drew his sword and pointed it skyward to roars and cheers from the men-at-arms. At once the siege began with all fury. Siege machines that Renly had prepared were put to use as the gates of King's Landing weakened under the force that was pushing against it, whilst the men met a nominal force of King's Landing defenders before the walls. Robb himself fought atop his horse, deftly using his sword to take down his foes as his army decimated the Lannister force.

Robb narrowly avoided an arrow that tragically killed his horse, Robb managed to dismount in time to save himself from being crushed but was now amongst the raving infantry as his mounted cavalry force charged around them. Sword in hand, Robb moved forward to engage a large man in the Lannister red cloak. Robb's fury knew no end as his sword shattered the Lannister soldier's in half before tearing through the man's shoulder. Robb's own chest plate was covered in his blood, before the Young Wolf turned to fight on boldly.

At the Mud Gate, hundreds of sailors died as they tried to scale the walls, only to be put down by arrows or barrels of rock and oil. After a while, their persistent paid off when they managed to climb their ladders and reach the wall walks where the true bloody battles began. Gold Cloaks and Lannister men-at-arms fell by the hundreds as the Army of the Wolf besieged the capital by flowing over the walls of the Mud Gate like a giant wave sent by the Gods themselves.

Robb's force at the city gates was having little luck in breaking through the thick, strong gates and were relieved when their allies managed to clear a path from the Mud Gate to the city gates, allowing the land host to flood into the city from the west as Robb's naval force attacked from the east.

Robb was commanding a large force that marched straight for the Red Keep, before they were engaged by a fierce contingent of soldiers led by a hulking brute of a man with a face that was gruesomely half-scarred by the fire, Sandor Clegane. Robb had expected a fierce fight from this man, perhaps to even lose his life. He had not expected to converse with the man as they circled.

"You ain't fuckin' Renly." Sandor said, before spitting a glob of phlegm to the ground.

"No. I'm Robb Stark, we met at Winterfell when you came with Joffrey. You are his sworn-shield are you not?"

"Fuck, Joffrey." Sandor barked, causing Robb to be taken aback. This allowed one of Sandor's men to charge forward as Robb was off-guard. The man was however stopped when Sandor's sword ripped through his chest from behind. The man dropped, leaving Sandor and Robb face-to-face.

"Your sister-Sansa…she's in the castle. She's safe. I yield to you, Robb Stark…" Sandor said with great pain and contempt in his voice, before throwing his sword down. Robb was completely stunned before turning to slay an enemy behind him with a swift slash of his blade.

"Pick up your sword, and lead my men to my sister, and I will pardon you, Sandor Clegane." Robb said firmly, before moving to engage more Lannister men. Sandor grunted, and complied before engaging his former allies with a ruthless and uncontained rage.

Clegane met Ser Meryn Trant and Ser Boros Blut at the same time, and made a mockery of the two White Cloaks by killing them both at the same time with one sword.

"You twats are pathetic. Die and leave this world a better place." Sandor declared before kicking them off his sword and spitting on their corpses.

The tide turned quickly after that, for the two Kingsguard knights had been flying Joffrey's banner, which Robb's men raised and burnt, along with all Lannister banners they found. Gold Cloaks fled as quickly as they died, and by the time dawn rose, the city was being sacked by the victors of the war. Robb had been clear that any rapists or murderers of innocent lives would be gelded and executed, and had his most trusted officers patrol the streets as Sandor Clegane led Robb and his men towards the undefended Red Keep. Swords and shields lay abandoned on the ground, along with bodies of those who had tried to prevent the turncloaks from leaving.

"All Lannister men-at-arms are to be put to death. Castle servants are to be rounded up for questioning. The royal family will be held in the Throne Room until I arrive. Whoever finds my sisters first will bring them straight to me!" Robb roared as they walked through the castle courtyards towards Maegor's Holdfast to be instantly engaged by ten Lannister soldiers, including Ilyn Payne who wordlessly screamed when Robb drove his sword through his abdomen and disemboweled him.

"SANSA! ARYA!" Robb roared as he charged up the stone staircase with Loras Tyrell, Randyll Tarly, Smalljon Umber and Dacey Mormont hot on his heels. The idiotic Ilyn Payne had forgotten to draw the bridge up, allowing the Northern force to easily access the otherwise impenetrable Maegor's Holdfast.

They cleared the three floors of theHoldfast room by room, finding all the noble ladies of the court and the city taking refuge in the Queen's Chambers, and all the royal servants hiding in the Royal Solar. The lack of his sister's presence amongst any of them greatly angered Robb Stark, who would spill the blood of every Lannister he found if Sansa or Arya had been harmed.

"Lady Sansa Stark, where is she?" Robb demanded, marching straight for the King's Steward amongst the assembled hostages within the Throne Room who shook his head in a panic, only to be grabbed roughly by Smalljon Umber.

"Answer him! Where is Lady Sansa?!" Smalljon demanded, only for a single voice to cause all the Northmen to turn at once.

"Robb!" Sansa exclaimed from across the hall, she was standing beside Sandor Clegane in the giant archway into the Throne Room before she sprinted into her elder brother's arms and began to sob. Sansa was overcome by everything that had happened to her, and was finally so happy to be reunited with her family and her people that she became hysterical. It was Sandor Clegane and Loras Tyrell who led the Lady Sansa away while Robb turned to face the Lannisters some time later, after Robb had promised Sansa multiple times that he was taking her home.

Sansa has been unable to tell Robb anything of Arya, other than the fact she had been missing since their father's arrest. Robb was furious at this revelation and intended to make it clear to the Lannisters but was aghast at what he found. Tyrion Lannister had been attacked on the field by his own men at Joffrey and Cersei's order, and was in between life and death attended to by Robb's own Maester. Tommen Baratheon's corpse was under the grey cloak of a Northern soldier, moved from the position that Cersei Lannister had left him in; slumped over in the Iron Throne. He had been poisoned by his own mother for reasons yet unknown, claimed the men who found Cersei and Tommen in the Throne Room. Cersei herself glared poison at Robb as his guards shackled her. Joffrey was fearful and wild, looking at everyone but avoiding Robb's eye.

"Joffrey Bara-…well, no you're not a Baratheon are you? You're not a Lannister either. You're a bastard born of incest. What would that make you? Joffrey Hill? Do you yield King's Landing and the Iron Throne to me, Joffrey Hill?" Robb asked as he stood facing the Lannisters, the Iron Throne to his right and the doors to the castle entrance to his left.

"You will pay for this, Stark. I'll kill you just as I killed your father!" Joffrey spat, finding some of his old venom as he still shook with fear.

"For the murder of my father, Lord Eddard Stark of Winterfell, the Warden of the North, and for countless other crimes I am sure you have committed, I sentence you to death, Joffrey Hill. Take him to the Black Cells." Robb ordered before turning to Cersei.

"My, my. Little pup all grown up." Cersei said, her words layered at an attempt of seduction. Robb's features contorted in disgust.

"Your brother-…your _lover_ languishes in my cells. I intend to execute him as well for what you did to my brother. And you? You, I will leave for my Queen to deal with, for I am sure she will think of a suitable punishment. For now, you will tell me what happened to my sister, Arya. Where is she? What have you done with her?" Robb demanded only for Cersei to laugh

"We never managed to find the little beast, she disappeard after dear Ned lost his head." Cersei replied venomously.

"If she has come to any harm, I will see that _you_ suffer for it…take her to the Black Cells. Ser Loras, you take her. I do not want this woman harmed under my rule." Robb declared, before turning to the rest of his gathered Lords who had filed in to fill the Throne Room.

"I promised you, King's Landing, my lords. Here it is." Robb stated, standing on the platform upon which the Iron Throne was built, above them all. They began to cheer and roar for their victory, and Robb himself smiled.

"The city must be restored to order by nightfall. I wish for two thousand men of Lord Tarly to serve as City Watchmen until we can establish governance. For tonight we rest, and we celebrate. The reign of the lions will soon be at an end."

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 **Author's Note: Yaaay, Robb won King's Landing. Suck on that, Joffrey. Leave us a review :D**


	11. Chapter 11

**Hey guys, glad most of you are liking this so far :).**

 **DISCLAIMER: The end of this chapter gets pretty smutty, so if you don't like to read Robb/Margaery getting it on, I recommend moving along when they're alone.**

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King's Landing was silent as dawn broke over the roofs of the capital city. Silent save for the diligent early-morning work of its' citizens; the bakers had risen early to fill the streets with a pleasant odor of bread, the smiths and their hammers could be heard ringing across the Street of Steel, and all across the city banners of a grey direwolf across a white field fluttered proudly in the gentle breeze coming in from the sea.

Robb Stark, the man who had claimed this city and the Iron Throne stood on the pavilion of the chambers that once belonged to Robert Baratheon, overlooking the city with great distaste. His father had died here, his sisters brutalized and now Arya was missing. The city might have been the city of Kings, but it would not be Robb's city. He was damned sure of that. Not in the state that it was. The Starks did not rule in red castles or cities that had as little law and order as a Dothraki horde.

The Wolf King exhaled deeply as a knock disturbed him from his brooding, he turned to enter the chambers from the outside as his betrothed entered the room with her father and brothers Loras and Garlan in tow.

"Your Grace," they chorused as they took an almost synchronized bow.

"My lords, my lady." Robb said, nodding to the Tyrells who would soon be his family by law, before giving Margaery one of their small, shared smiles that she returned in kind.

"It is-…it's-…I'm glad you are alright." Robb said to Margaery rather awkwardly, trying to find the words before her family. Garlan merely grinned and bowed his head while Loras rolled his eyes. Mace was absolutely delighted as Margaery's cheeks tinted slightly pink before she inclined her head.

"The feeling is mutual, Your Grace." She said with a smile, before flicking her eyes briefly to her father and widening them. Robb understood her meaning, they would speak later. He hadn't seen her since he'd marched out from Bitterbridge, and her companionship through this incredible transition was what he sorely wanted.

"Your Grace, may I present my father Mace Tyrell, Lord of Highgarden, Defender of the Marches and Robert Baratheon's own chosen Warden of the South. Father, Robb Stark, First of His Name, King of the Andals, the First Men and the Rhoynar, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm." Ser Loras said proudly, causing Robb to grimace slightly before stepping forward to extend his hand.

"Lord Tyrell, it is my honor." Robb said with amiable smile.

"The honor is mine, Your Grace. My children have spoken of your honor and praised your character. It would be the highest praise-."

"Oh, Mace, do shut up." Came an old, wise voice from the door, causing all the Tyrells to turn at once.

"Grandmother!" Margaery exclaimed, rushing forward to greet the great Olenna Tyrell. Mace Tyrell visibly sagged at the sight of his mother.

"Come, come. There is no need for pleasantries and false fronts. We are to win a war together, are we not, King Robb?" Olenna stated, walking into the room after hugging Margaery warmly.

"Garlan, you're not eating enough." Olenna commented to her grandson, who chuckled and nodded.

"Leonette cannot control the cooks as well as you, grandmother."

"Of course not. And don't get me started on you, Loras. A haircut and a decent meal are sorely in order. Off with you boys, I wish to discuss things alone with the King and Margaery." Olenna declared, patting her grandsons on the back. They instantly obeyed with a bow of their heads to Robb. It was Mace who put up a momentary struggle, only to be silenced by a swift look from his mother.

"Aye, mother…" Mace said with a sigh, turning to join his sons.

"I love my boy greatly, but he is an oaf." Olenna said dismissively when the door closed behind Mace, leaving Robb alone with his betrothed and her grandmother.

"Oh don't look so frightened, Your Grace. Does my reputation scare you so?" Olenna chuckled, before Robb winced and bowed.

"I apologize, my lady. I was just rather surprised by what I just saw, if we are abandoning falsehoods. Though I am well aware it is you who controls Highgarden in Lord Mace's name." Robb said, gesturing for Olenna to sit down before the great oaken desk of Kings, he walked behind her chair to hold Margaery's hand for a moment before he himself assumed the seat that the Targaryen Kings had sat on for nearly three-hundred-years.

"Smart boy. Margaery told me you were." Olenna said with a half-nod of approval.

"And she told me you were smarter, my lady. So tell me what I can help you with." Robb smiled in return, leaning forward to clasp his hands across the leather inlay of the desk.

"I knew your grandfather, Lord Rickard, though not well." Olenna said, sitting back in her chair.

"I am told he was a man of honor. My brother Rickon was named for him. It is a pity I did not know him." Robb sighed, thinking again of how odd it was that he was the Lord of Winterfell. The Lord of Winterfell had always seemed like a great man to him, a strong man like his father. He did not feel strong enough to be on the Iron Throne, but kept on the face of the King.

"We want you and Margaery to be wed at once. Before you are crowned King." Olenna stated plainly, causing Robb to glance upward at Margaery who looked somewhat alarmed at what her grandmother had said. Robb merely smiled and leaned back in his chair for a moment before rising.

"How rude of me, I have not offered you anything to eat or drink. I am told you enjoy figs, my lady." Robb said, going to a table where he picked up a platter of fruit to offer Olenna himself. Olenna gave Robb a shrewd look before picking a fig from what he offered.

"I see my beloved granddaughter cannot hold her a tongue when she sees a handsome boy with pretty eyes."

"Grandmother!"

"Come, come, dear. It is no matter. At least you like this one. And from what I can tell he likes you as well." Olenna said in a rather bored tone before taking a bite of her fig.

"Which beggars the question, why would you not wish to marry at once?"

"Because there is still a war to be won, my lady. And I will not give cause for celebration until I am reunited with my Northmen. I have had no word from my generals or the envoy I sent to them. My new pact with the Tyrells has meant that I have broken an agreement with Lord Walder."

"That old ferret." Olenna said dismissively with a wave of her hand. "Pay him off, and marry his daughter to someone like-…"

"My uncle Edmure. To whom I have proposed this to via my envoy. The Freys will learn of my betrothal soon, either by my own men or by rumors. I intend to marry Margaery, have no doubt of that, my lady. But until Tywin Lannister is dead and the Seven Kingdoms is at peace. I cannot celebrate. Margaery will return to Highgarden with you and a force led by Loras to protect you while we clean up the North. If my Northern and River armies have heeded my word, then Tywin Lannister should be marching West. We have been seizing the castles of his bannermen, once in the West, my River lords will attack them from the rear while my Northmen engage them head-on. I intend to march tomorrow to meet them. When the Lannister army is fallen, we march North and retake my country for my Northern Lords. There is no other alternative."

"There is one thing you are forgetting, dear boy."

"What is that?"

"Dorne." Olenna said simply, causing Robb to furrow his brows before he sighed in realization.

"Myrcella Baratheon."

"She is betrothed to one of Doran's boys. And by Dornish custom, they could rise for her once you kill Joffrey. Tommen is already dead, how that dreadful tart could do that to her own boy I cannot fathom." Olenna said with a shiver and a shake of her head.

"What do you suggest?" Robb asked, earning a raised eyebrow from Olenna and Margaery both.

"Do not look shocked. I am not a Southerner, my most valued commander is Lady Dacey Mormont. And to deny that you both have innate political skill would be foolish. Westeros will change under my rule, and Margaery will rule beside me, not behind me." Robb said, leaning back in his chair.

"Good. Then you send a raven to Oberyn Martell, in whichever brothel he's hiding and offer him the lives of Tywin Lannister, Amory Loch and Gregor Clegane." Olenna said, her words slow and precise. It took Robb a moment to realize why those names were important.

"The murderers of Elia Martell and her children."

"Precisely. You are clever, Your Grace. You will do well on the Iron Throne. Send the raven."

"I will, my lady. I thank you for your counsel."

"As for the Royal Wedding, I believe that more can be done to cement the ties of House Tyrell and House Stark. Your sister Sansa, she is a beauty indeed and would flourish in Highgarden. My grandson Willas is his father's heir and everything his father is not. He would treat your sister well."

"Margaery has told me of Willas. And while I am sure he is indeed a good man, I promised my sister safety and to return home. He is…a bit old for her, is he not?"

"Old? He will inherit Highgarden and become your chief vassal when you have brought peace and married Margaery. Old has nothing to do with it. Neither does love or feelings, boy. Margaery did not marry that gilded stag Renly for love. What you feel for each other is a rarity in this world. Cherish it." Olenna declared

"Very well. Home…is under control of the Greyjoys. So it would be prudent for Sansa to follow you and Margaery to Highgarden where she can meet Willas and decide for herself. That is my offer."

"You're a hard bargainer, Your Grace, but very well. The Royal Wedding between you two will mark the dawn of a new age, I suggest you seize Casterly Rock for yourself and plunder it for all you can. Robert Baratheon has left this country in a steaming pile of debt that will bring ruin unto us if you do not pay it back. The Iron Bank will have their due."

"Good Gods…" Robb sighed, rubbing his face.

"Baelish has been very talkative in the cells of Highgarden. He hopes to earn a reprieve from you." Margaery informed her betrothed who looked up with a steely defiance in his eyes.

"No amount of words will save that worm. But thank you for the knowledge. I intend to be crowned today by the High Septon before the Great Lords of the army assembled here. They will swear me fealty and then we will march after King's Landing is secured by Lord Tarly, I am leaving him as Governor of the City until I return. I did not wish to be so brash as to name a Hand just yet." Robb said, earning a smile from Olenna.

"Wise. Very well, I take my leave of you, Your Grace." Olenna rose and nodded her head, before giving Margaery a look and making her way out.

"Hello." Robb said with a smile, causing Margaery to roll her eyes and walk around Robb's desk to embrace him.

"You are terrible in court…" Margaery said after a while, pulling back to wrap her hands around his neck.

"I thought I did pretty well for myself." Robb said with a look of mock outrage.

"Oh you're a very good warrior and a fine politician Robb Stark, but you cannot stare at me like you want to ravish me in front of my family!" she said, pushing his chest and walking away from him.

"I cannot help it, when you are so wonderfully beautiful. But of course, honor is-…what are you doing?" Robb asked as Margaery locked the door to the chambers.

"Giving us some alone time." Margaery said with a mischievous smile.

"Margaery-…really, I should be-."

"Robb Stark, if I am to be your wife, you will give me the opportunity to at least get to know you better." She grinned, walking forward to wrap her arms around his middle.

"But you know almost everything!" he laughed, kissing the tip of her nose as he moved his hands to her waist.

"No. Not everything. Like…have you ever lain with a woman?" she asked, causing her adorable, warrior wolf to turn red.

"I-..what? How co-…I don-…Margae-…I have-…" Robb spluttered, silencing as Margaery began to laugh.

"Be honest!"

"I-…once…only once, in Winterfell. I was…16 and Theon thought I needed to know- and Alys Royce was…it was stupid. I'm sorry…" Robb said with a deep feeling of shame overcoming him, he bowed his head, only to have his chin tilted up by Margaery.

"Robb. Don't look like you killed a child. You fucked another woman, it's not a big deal." Margaery laughed, causing Robb to furrow his brows.

"Yes…Robb Stark, I laid with another man once too. I was 16 as well…and I was caught up in the romance of it all, foolish as I was. Do you wish to call off our engagement now?" Margaery asked Robb with a challenging stare only to be met with a kiss.

"I am…incredibly relieved…" he laughed, before kissing her again "If we are to be equal in rule, I am…oddly glad that we are equal in this as well." Robb said with a shrug causing Margaery to shake her head.

"You are an odd man, Robb Stark." She declared before passionately kissing her wolf, forcing him to sit on the edge of his desk as Margaery pressed her slender but shapely figure against his body. Her hands curled into his hair she nibbled his bottom lip, only to once again meet his tongue with hers.

Robb's own hands were running along the curves of her body, before he gripped her in a swift motion and turned to have her sitting on the desk with her legs wrapped around his hips. Margaery moaned softly as Robb's lips traced down her jaw to her throat, his right hand curled in her thick, brown hair while his left hand squeezed her hip, before moving to cup her ass in desire.

Robb and Margaery both knew they were bordering on dangerous territory, but neither seemed to be thinking so clearly as Margaery hitched her dress and shift up around her waist before wrenching Robb's tunic off his now-muscular torso.

"Margaery-…" Robb moaned as his betrothed ran her hands down Robb's stomach to graze her nails across his hips, her lips were on his collarbone when she pulled away to look at him.

"Don't be honorable for once, Robb Stark. Enjoy this. I know I'm going to." She grinned, before pulling her gown over her head and tossing it aside with Robb's help. Robb himself merely went silent to admire Margaery's body. To him, she was perfect. His blue eyes roamed her body, before she roughly pulled his face up to continue kissing him.

"You have a lifetime to stare at me." She commanded in between kisses, only for Robb to growl and spontaneously pull her pelvis closer towards him, causing Margaery to gasp.

"Did Lady Alys teach you anything? Or am I going to have to whip my King into shape?" Margaery asked breathily as ground herself against Robb, her hand moving to tug at the strings of his breeches.

Robb grunted in response, moving to help Margaery with his breeches before lifting the pure white shift off her torso. The King and his future Queen saw each for the first time, sharing a silent moment of appreciation for one another, for the life they would share and the chemistry they had before Robb placed a gentle but calloused hand on one of Margaery's soft breasts. His own manhood leapt upward at the contact, straight into Margaery's waiting hand. Robb's body lurched as his betrothed slowly worked her hand on his manhood, bringing him pleasure he had not thought possible during these times of strife. Robb however was then overcome with a simple, primal desire to give Margaery what she was giving him.

He interrupted her movements so that he could kiss his way down her collarbone to her chest, cupping one of her breasts before taking the erect pink nipple into mouth almost reverently. Margaery groaned, her fingers curling into Robb's hair tightly as the Young Wolf pushed his lady to lie flat on her back on the desk of Kings while his lips moved down to her navel.

Margaery was glad that Robb was the type of King who did not like guards at his side, for she knew they were about to make noises that no-one should hear from their future monarchs, especially the long, slow groan that Robb unexpectedly solicited from her when his gentle and loving lips met her aroused womanhood suddenly. She squirmed off the table and pressed Robb's head further between her legs, not knowing what he was doing to her but certain that she did not want him to stop.

Robb himself was deeply detached from the war, the chaos and the fact he was King. He was just a man who wanted to be with this beautiful woman before him, and he wanted to continue making her make those sounds. His tongue ran along Margaery's dripping folds before sucking on her swollen red clit, causing Margaery to thrust her pelvis upwards into Robb's mouth. His hands caressed her thighs but held them apart firmly as he flicked his tongue repeatedly unto her sex.

Robb had only received this sort of treatment once in his life from Lady Alys Royce when she had put her mouth around his manhood. She had never told him or asked of him anything else. It was something he had wondered about until he experimented on Margaery. Judging on how Margaery was growing increasingly louder and wetter, Robb focused his lips on tongue on spots that seemed to force Margaery to gasp or shiver or press his head further down. His name was repeatedly coming from her lips until Margaery's body began to shake slightly and she pulled his head away by his hair as her eyes closed, her back arched and her toes curled. Robb sat back to rise and gaze at the panting Margaery with a smile. He wiped his mouth with the back of his forearm before Margaery Tyrell reached a weary hand to pull him down unto her.

"What-…what in God's names…was…that? Was that a Northern thing?" Margaery asked breathless as she planted soft kisses along Robb's jaw.

"I-…I don't know. I just wanted to try it with you. Did you like it?" he asked with a smile, causing Margaery to widen her eyes and shake her head.

"It was…indescribable my King. I hope that our marriage is filled with much more of that…" Margaery smiled, pecking his lips lightly.

"Without question." Robb grinned, causing Margaery to grin again before she rose from the table and stretched. She was weary from her orgasm, but she did not intend to let Robb leave without their making love. She forced her betrothed onto his ass on the desk before kneeling before him to grasp his manhood in one hand.

"I haven't done this before…so do not expect too much." She said with a wry smile as her hand lovingly moved across his length. Robb could not say anything, his head in a fog as Margaery wraped her lips around him. He forgot his own name as he groaned loudly. Alys Royce had actually slightly hurt Robb's cock, but Margaery was giving him the same treatment he had given her. Loving attention that had the Young Wolf curling his toes as Margaery's tongue ran down his staff.

"Oh no! Alright…we must stop…I…"

"Oh no, you're not going to finish before I've had you." Margaery declared, very much dominating the King as she rose to face him one more. Robb kissed her hungrily, his right hand connecting with the firm flesh of her ass causing her to wince and groan in desire.

"Come on." Margaery pulled Robb by his hand to the large four poster bed in the room, Robb lifted her in his strong arms to throw her in with a laugh. Margaery glared at Robb before laughing herself and throwing a pillow at him.

"Hurry up! You have a coronation to get to." She reminded him as he joined her on the bed and kissed her shoulder.

"Damn the coronation. This is far more important." Robb declared, forgetting that he was technically dishonoring both himself and Margaery.

"Make love to me, Robb Stark." Margaery said after the two had shared a long, loving kiss. Robb simply smiled and moved to hover above her, Margaery's hand found his cock and slowly she guided him to her entrance. Robb once more looked into Margaery's eyes for encouragement and instead she gave his ass a firm spank, startling the Young Wolf to thrust into Margaery and causing them both to shout out in surprise and pleasure. Robb buried his head into the crook of Margaery's neck as he hovered halfway inside of her, feeling as though if he moved anymore he would reach his climax and impregnate her. Margaery herself was feeling sensitive from Robb's earlier work with his mouth, but knew that she wanted Robb there and then and gently coaxed her betrothed to continue.

Their rhythm was slow at first, but soon Margaery had her hand behind her to stop her head from smashing into the headboard as the young couple vigorously made love for the first time. Robb and Margaery both knew that siring a child before their wedding was foolish, and when the time came Robb all but leaped off of Margaery to send his seed spurting across her thigh and onto the silken sheets of the royal bed.

"Well…at least we christened the bed." Margaery panted after a little while. Robb laughed, moving to wrap Margaery in his arms and hold her tight.

"Gods be good…I think I love you."

"You're such a man." Margaery laughed, patting his cheek gently.

"If it means anything, I think I love you too." She said, avoiding his gaze by looking at their intertwined hands across her midriff.

"Don't die out there, Robb." Margaery said after a while as Robb was falling into one of the most peaceful sleeps he'd had in over two years. "I…you need to come back to me." She said, glancing back at him.

"I promise." He said with a smile, causing Margaery to turn in his arms and peck his lips.

"Do better, Robb Stark." She smiled.


	12. Chapter 12

**Author's Note: Just a small chapter on Robb's coronation because Chapter 11 was 4007 words, lol. Do leave your thoughts behind in a review!**

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Robb knew that this was a hasty coronation for the significance of his hold of King's Landing. If the war was won, and when he wed Margaery, a proper coronation for the two would occur. But perhaps not on in King's Landing…

At any rate, Robb was dressed in his finest leather and velvet doublet that was pinned together with a finely made sterling silver direwolf's head clasp. A fine grey cloak lined with silver wolf's fur was draped around his shoulders. His longsword was strapped to his belt and though it was in the hands of the High Septon instead of on his head where it usually sat upon was his crown that his Northmen and Riverlords had given to him; an open circlet of hammered bronze incised with the runes of the First Men, surmounted by nine black iron spikes wrought in the shape of longswords. It was said that Robb's crown looked much like the crown worn by the old Kings of Winter.

Robb was standing before the platform of the Iron Throne with the High Septon standing only a step behind him holding Robb's crown over his head as he spoke the traditional words of coronation.

" _…may the Warrior grant him courage, and protect him in these perilous times. May the Smith grant him strength, so that he might bear this heavy burden, and may the Crone, she that knows the fate of all men, show him the paths he must walk and guide him through the dark places that lie ahead. In the light of the Seven, I now proclaim Robb of the House Stark, first of his name, King of the Andals, the First Men, and the Rhoynar, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and Protector of the Realm_!" The High Septon's voice rang out across the hall as he placed Robb's crown back onto his head.

" _Long may he reign!"_ The High Septon cried out, echoed by the hundreds of great and small lords who fought for Robb that were gathered in the Throne Room.

Robb locked his gaze with Margaery, who was almost glowing as she had eyes for none other than her king. She looked beautiful in yet another gown of grey and white, though the statement with this gown was much bolder, as was the way she wore her hair. She looked like a Northener, and none could dispute that for the moment. He turned his heel and began the short climb up to the Iron Throne, a walk he never thought in his life that he would take. Staring at the chair, he realized what a great construction it truly was. The seat of Kings. He admired it for a moment before he turned to sit. He was fearful that the swords would cut him instantly, but though the Throne was uncomfortable…it accepted Robb as a worthy monarch.

The gathered crowd cheered loudly, before they crowded around to swear their oaths of fealty. The day dragged on impossibly long after that, and when Robb finally stood from the Throne, dusk had fallen and the King was weary.

"Tomorrow we begin a march that will define the new age of this country. Tomorrow I march out as the one true King of Westeros with you all behind me. Tomorrow we eradicate the stain of the lions by executing the false king Joffrey and marching out to eradicate his remaining armies. Tywin Lannister will fall to us, as every other foe has. The new age begins tomorrow, my lords. The Age of the Wolf. I urge you all to retire for the evening to prepare for our march." Robb declared, earning applause from his new vassals before they filed from the Throne Room and left Robb with his closest council for the time being; Margaery, Loras, Smalljon, Dacey, Randyll Tarly, Lord Oakheart, and the Maester who had attended to him throughout the war; Maester Willam, who Robb intended to serve as his own Maester.

"I want Joffrey prepared for execution in the morrow. The sooner he is dead, the less reason his armies will have to rally. Cersei Lannister is to be left in Margaery's custody. I wish for her to watch her dynasty crumble until Margaery is Queen, then she shall be executed for her crimes." Robb declared tiredly to his council who nodded their heads.

"Do not trust her, Margaery…" Robb warned, only to earn a laugh from Margaery.

"Fear not, my love. She will not be in my company while you are away. Highgarden is very lovely, but our dungeons are not." Margaery said with a sweet smile that contradicted her dark words.

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 **Author's Note: And unfortunately I must retire for the evening, I hope to update tomorrow. Stay tuned!**


	13. Chapter 13

Robb had intended to make his way to the royal chambers and get some much deserved rest before the day that was to meet him tomorrow, but he had not gotten further than the drawbridge of Maegor's Holdfast when a young squire dressed in Lannister red ran up to Robb, soliciting a crazed response from the four guards that had been standing watch in the courtyard, who leapt into action and restrained the boy and shielded the King before he could get anywhere close to Robb.

"Stand down! By the Gods, Stand down!" Robb ordered over the panic as the young squire looked like he was about to vomit and then faint from fear.

"Release him."

"Your Grace- he is a Lann-…"

"And a squire, Harrion. Do we harm squires when they have done us no harm?" Robb asked his guard, before looking to the young Podrick Payne curiously as his men sheathed their swords and released the squire.

"I know you, don't I? The Imp's squire." Robb asked the boy, to receive a nod and stammering response.

"Y-yes, Your Grace. L-Lord T-t-tyrion has awoken. I was t-told by the Maesters t-to bring word at o-o-once." Robb sighed and nodded, this was a matter he needed to see to before he left King's Landing. The imp had shown Bran a kindness, he had been attacked by his own sister and nephew, and from what Robb had been told he had even organized and led a formidable defense of King's Landing before being overcome by Robb's army, perhaps there was use for the half-man after this war was over.

"Very well, bring me to him. Harrion, Arthor, follow." Robb commanded to two of his guards who nodded their heads. It was foolish for Robb to have been walking alone, he realized that now, for Podrick could have easily been someone else who _had_ intended Robb harm. As smart as he was, Robb was making many mistakes that threatened his life and the lives of his family. His first mistake had been to send Theon to his father. He hoped that he had not made another by leaving his Northmen in the West without his command.

Tyrion Lannister had supposedly been acting as Hand of the King, which meant that Robb followed Podrick Payne to the Tower of the Hand where his own father had been staying when Ned Stark was captured for treason. The thought incensed Robb, along with the thought that his father's men had been murdered in this very castle.

"Lord Varys is currently with him, Your Grace." Podrick said quietly, opening the door for Robb who walked in with his two Northern guards to see a brutalized Tyrion Lannister lying in bed with the Eunuch speaking softly beside him.

"Your Grace." Varys said with a deep bow to Robb who inclined his head once. He had little love for the Spider, but the man had pledged loyalty and had brought him word from the west. The Greatjon had heeded Robb's orders and continued in seizing castles and mines of the Westerlands, Roose Bolton was marching North with 2000 foot and 500 mounted riders to garrison and begin a siege of Moat Cailin and await reinforcements from Robb. Tywin Lannister was raising men to return to the Westerlands and intended to leave Amory Lorch as castellan of Harrenhal. Information that all proved incredibly useful to Robb's war plans.

"Lord Varys. You may remain, if Lord Tyrion has no issue." Robb declared walking further into the chambers of the Hand to stand beside Varys looking down at Tyrion with a hint of sympathy at the man's wounds.

"King of Westeros, eh?" Tyrion rasped at Robb, attempting to smirk before grimacing in pain.

"You fought with bravery, Lord Tyrion. And you were betrayed by your own family, as I am sure Lord Varys has told you by now." Robb stated plainly, causing Tyrion's features to darken.

"Why should I believe either of you?" Tyrion asked in anger, causing Robb to raise an eyebrow.

"I believe the better question is why should I? I could have you join Cersei or perhaps even Joffrey on the block tomorrow, but Lord Varys persuaded me otherwise. You did my brother a kindness in Winterfell, and your men say that you fought with honor. I don't intend to punish you for this, Tyrion Lannister." Robb said, causing Tyrion to look up at him curiously.

"What could you want from me, Lord Stark?"

"You will refer to His Grace as King, Imp!" barked one of Robb's guards, causing the three other men in the room to glance at him.

"My apologies, Your Grace. What could you want from me?"

"Heal. Wait for my return, and when I do, assist me in bringing this realm to peace for the winter. Serve me well, and serve me loyally and I will name you Lord of Casterly Rock."

"I believe you are forgetting two other men in my way…" Tyrion commented wryly as he forced himself to sit up in his bed with great pain. He gazed at Robb Stark with great doubt, he knew the boy vaguely from his time Winterfell. It seemed he was truly his father's son, except blessed with an ability to overlook his honor when the situation called for it. He could rule well, Tyrion knew that. But would he really sacrifice his family? Tywin…Tywin had always made it clear that he wanted him dead…and Cersei…Cersei had ordered his attack. The only one he had love for was Jamie…

"Your father is about to engage my forces in war, and has less than thirty thousand men under his command. I have twenty thousand Northmen in the West, eleven thousand Riverlanders to the north-east, and I have sent half of my infantry and a quarter of my mounted force to join them yesterday. Tomorrow I march out with fifty thousand men. You are a learned man, Lord Tyrion. I have over one hundred and thirty thousand men united under my banner. Your family's reign is over. If your father surrenders, I intend to offer his imprisonment in Dorne to Prince Doran and Prince Oberyn along with that of Gregor Clegane and Amory Lorch. Your brother has two choices…taking the black or the block. You are the only Lannister left, and I am not of a mind to extinguish a House root-and-stem when you can be made of use. Think on my offer." Robb said, nodding his head to Tyrion before turning to leave.

"Your Grace…there was a man in my service, a sellsword named Bronn-." Tyrion called, causing Robb to turn back and nod slowly.

"Aye. My men arrested him trying to flee south after the city had been taken. He is currently set for execution."

"I ask for his clemency. He has served me well, and only acted on my orders. Please." Tyrion asked, leaning forward in bed despite his injuries, causing Robb to sigh.

"He will be held in a cell until I have returned to establish my reign. And you, boy." Robb said, turning to Podrick Payne

"Remove your surcoat if you are to continue serving Lord Tyrion, or else you will likely be mistaken again for a Lannister man. I do not want your blood on my hands, are we clear?" Robb asked, causing Podrick to nod vigorously.

"Your Grace…I have...news that will trouble you greatly." Varys told Robb as they left Tyrion alone to walk down the steps of the Tower of the Hand together.

"Gods…what now?" Robb asked tiredly as they emerged out onto the open-aired complex of the castle.

"I am told Lord Tywin marches out from Harrenhal at dawn tomorrow…and there is a rumor that he has secured the allegiance of one of your generals and Northern Lords. To whom this traitor is I cannot say, but I am actively working to find out." Varys explained causing Robb to furrow his brows, feeling as though he had been stabbed in the gut. One of his own men, his lords, his vassals…and he was too far away from his Northmen to do anything, leading an army of southerners.

"But…the grave news comes from further North…" Varys said with a noted tone of discomfort as Robb stopped in his tracks to face him.

"Out with it, my lord. I do not enjoy the suspense."

"Theon Greyjoy…has been reportedly seen hanging the burnt and crisped bodies of two young boys from the walls of Winterfell…" Robb was frozen, unmoving as his ears filled with a loud buzzing and his heart seized in his chest.

 _Gods…Bran…Rickon…_

" ** _NO!_** " Robb's scream of brutally enraged grief caused Stark guards to rouse and rush towards their King from around the near vicinity. Arthor and Harrion kept them all back as Robb held Varys' lapels.

"This cannot be true!" Robb shook Varys who shook his head with deep sympathy.

"I am sorry, Your Grace…Ser Rodrik Cassel is gathering a small host of Glover and Tallhart men to retake the castle." Varys said quietly, causing Robb to push the eunuch away and storm towards Maegor's Holdfast. His heart began to race further, and he stumbled within the holdfast to place his hand against the red stone wall to steady himself as he took ragged shaking breaths. His baby brothers…he had failed them as he had failed his father. Robb shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut as tears gathered. He slammed his fist against the stone to let out another roar of anguish. The men who had initially gathered stood around awkwardly, not knowing what to do as word spread amongst them of the deaths of their little lords.

Dacey Mormont and Smalljon Umber, two of Robb's most trusted lieutenants and closest friends pushed their way through the gathering mass of soldiers to support their King.

"Be gone, all of you! The King grieves and needs not your prying eyes or whispers!" Dacey called, turning fiercely to glare at the men as she had a soothing hand rubbing Robb's shoulder. Dacey's words sent the men scrambling as Robb shook his head.

"Boys…only boys…how could he do this…? To them? To us? We raised him like a brother…" Robb muttered quietly causing Dacey and Smalljon to frown at each other.

"Robb…what will you do?" Smalljon asked after a while, causing Robb to raise his head with a black fury.

"We will destroy the Iron Islands…" Robb stated through gritted teeth "The future of Westeros will never suffer their ire again…Dacey, find Varys. Tell him to get word to Ser Rodrik Cassel somehow…I do not want Winterfell taken until I am back in the North…I want him to take his forces to Moat Cailin and attack the Ironborn from the North, it is the only way Moat Cailin is vulnerable. Word must also be sent to Lord Howland to have his crannogmen bleed the Ironborn." Robb stated as he marched up the steps of the holdfast, his heart hardened again by the tragedy that faced him. Dacey nodded and turned at once to find the Spider and deliver Robb's orders. Smalljon stayed by his King's side.

"I must-…I must speak with Sansa…" Robb said, his lip trembling "Jon…find me a personal guard for the remainder of our time in this shitheap of a city. Trusted men." Smalljon nodded at once and left, leaving Robb outside Sansa's chamber doors. The Wolf King shook his head as tears once more welled in his eyes before raising a weary hand to knock on his sister's door.

"Enter!" came a hesitant call in response, Robb entered to see Sansa hastily tying on a robe over her nightclothes, though she visibly relaxed at the sight of her elder brother.

"Oh, Robb! Its just y-…what's wrong? What's happened?" Sansa asked, paling when she saw her brother's teary eyes.

"Robb?" she walked forward, her voice tight with anxiety.

"Sansa-…" Robb began, before a half-choked sob cut him off. Robb bowed his head as a tear trailed down his cheek. With great difficulty, Robb told Sansa of the fate of their baby brothers. Sansa's features broke as she collapsed to her knees, unable to process the fact that their precious baby brothers, who had harmed no-one and were the joy of the Stark family had met such a horrible death. Robb himself picked up Sansa to hold her as the two oldest Stark siblings grieved together.

"Kill them, Robb." Sansa pleaded into her brother's chest as she clutched his tunic "Kill them all." She sobbed causing Robb to take a deep breath and nod darkly.

"Sansa, you have to go back to Highgarden with Ser Loras and Margaery. You must stay safe for me, for mother." Robb told her a long while later when he rose to leave. Sansa could only nod, silent tears still filling her eyes.

"Is mother-…is she-…?"

"She is fine. She is with the Greatjon." Robb said, remembering with a pang that one of his Generals was a traitor. He quickly shook the notion of the Greatjon betraying him from his mind, he was Robb's fiercest supporter. He could only think of three Houses off the top of his head that would dissent: House Bolton, House Dustin and House Ryswell. Thankfully most of that force had been sent North to garrison near Moat Cailin…

But if it was one of the other Lords, then Robb faced a serious problem in which his army could be attacked by their own supposed allies. Robb needed to march at once…

"Sleep, Sansa. You have a long journey ahead of you…" Robb said solemnly to his sister, giving her a final hug and holding her shoulders for a moment.

"Father-…did he-…did they make him suffer?" Robb asked her quietly, causing Sansa's features to tighten in anger as she nodded.

"Kill him, Robb. Put his head on a spike and let it rot until the end of time!" Sansa demanded almost hysterically, causing Robb to rub her back soothingly.

"His death is at hand." Robb promised, before leaving his sister's chambers to wearily make his way to his own. Outside Sansa's chambers Robb met four men that Smalljon had assigned to him as his personal guard for the night. Robb said nothing to them as they walked with him to stand outside his door.

"Rest well, Your Grace. We will protect you." Promised the commander, receiving only a nod from Robb in response. The Young Wolf entered his chambers to be met with the sight of his betrothed walking towards him with a look of sad sympathy on her face. She wrapped her arms around him, kissing him comfortingly and whispering her condolences as Robb held onto her for dear life and wept.

Margaery spent the night with Robb, only to comfort her King and assist him in regaining his composure before he faced the day he had tomorrow. Robb's head was resting on her breast and her hand was running through his hair as they laid on the royal bed together. Robb shook his head slightly, staring into nothing.

"I trusted him…I trust everyone too easily…" Robb croaked, causing Margaery to gently shush him.

"You are a good man, Robb Stark. You saw the best in him, as you see the best in everyone. You are a believer, an optimist, even though you disguise it beneath your Northern grimness. It is why I love you. If you feel that the Iron Islands must fall…then I support you…but don't do it in Bran and Rickon's name…" she said, causing Robb to close his eyes and silently accept her advice. She was right, he realized. She was going to be right very often in the life they would share.

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 **Author's Note: Do leave a review**!


	14. Chapter 14

The bells of the Red Keep tolled dramatically as Robb's royal party made their way from the Red Keep to the open courtyard in the center of town, a cobblestone square in front of the Guildhall of the Alchemists. Stark banners flew on standards held by his guards and in the hands of the citizens of King's Landing who cheered for Robb for saving them from Joffrey. The blonde boy was in shackles and being forcibly marched through the streets in full view of everyone. Robb said nothing as the citizens pelted Joffrey with stones, rotten food and anything they could lay their hands on. From Sansa's account Joffrey had done the same to their father. Sansa herself rode beside Robb, looking pale as they reached the square and a block of wood was placed upon the platform where the town crier usually stood.

"KILL HIM!" chanted the crowds as Joffrey was forced up onto the platform in chains, struggling and yelling at the Northmen who held him, before being struck in the face by Robin Flint. Joffrey cried out as his nose broke and blood poured down his face. Robb remained by the horses for a moment, before sharing a glance with Margaery and Sansa who both nodded their encouragement. Robb walked forward, dressed in his armor and his crown in place atop his head to be followed by Olyvar Frey, Robb's squire who had remained loyal to the King despite knowing that Robb would break his oaths to Olyvar's family. Olyvar carried in his hands _Ice,_ the ancestral greatsword of House Stark that had been found appropriated by Joffrey in the Royal Armory and was now returned to its rightful owners.

The Royal Party included Sansa, Margaery, her brothers Loras and Garlan, Olenna and Mace Tyrell, Robb's personal guard of young Northern nobles and Lord Randyll Tarly. They took audience before the platform as Lord Randyll's men secured a perimeter to allow the smallfolk to crowd behind the party safely.

Joffrey finally looked fearful as Robb stepped up to join Joffrey and the two men holding him on the platform. Robb had only a cold glare for the inbred son of Cersei and Jamie Lannister.

"Do you have any final words, Joffrey?" Robb asked as he removed his cloak from around his shoulders, letting the heavy material fall to the ground in a pool of grey and silver. Robb's newly forged armor, a gift from the Tyrells was of finely smithed black steel. Save for a fierce direwolf's head that was embossed on his chest plate, Robb's armor was elegantly simple and practical.

"I-I…I-…Please-…I don't want to die. I'm sorry! I'M SORRY! PLEASE, STARK! I DON'T WANT TO DIE. I DON'T WANT TO DIE! I'M SORRY!" Joffrey screamed in a high-pitched voice, only to receive boos and jeers from the crowd who laughed at him.

"Neither did my father, or the butcher's boy you had Sandor Clegane cut down. Nor did the bastards Robert Baratheon sired. You have murdered many, and caused Westeros nothing but pain and strife. You have no claim to the Iron Throne as my father Lord Eddard Stark had declared! You called him traitor and took his head. I call you bastard of incest between Cersei and Jamie Lannister. For your crimes against Westeros, I sentence you to death. Kneel." Robb commanded, only for Joffrey to struggle violently. One of the guards roughly shoved the blonde to his knees while the other forced Joffrey to bend over and place his neck on the block. The Golden Lion screamed and struggled as the Young Wolf unsheathed his father's magnificent sword from its ancient scabbard, the singing of steel was so quiet, but it was enough to silence the entire crowd and Joffrey.

The false monarch widened his eyes at the very sword he had ordered Ned Stark's death with and committed an act that would the realm would forever remember him for; he began to weep and wet himself.

"Gods be good! He's pissin' himself everywhere!" one of the guards yelled in disgust, causing the crowd of people to laugh at Joffrey's expense.

"Let's get this done quick before he browns himself as well." Robb commented wryly, before lifting _Ice_ for only the third time in his life. Robb took a step back and swung the mighty sword of the Kings of Winter through the air to slice the head of Joffrey Baratheon clean off. Joffrey's scream was instantly silenced as his head rolled off the platform and close to the feet of Sansa Stark who stared at it for a long, long moment before her eyes began to well with tears of relief. Her tormentor was dead. Her own brother had delivered her Joffrey's head as she had prayed he would. Robb himself was panting, his heart racing from having just avenged his father. He turned to face the crowd as they began to cheer and the bells tolled once more.

Joffrey's headless body was dragged from the platform and uncaringly tossed into a box for burial. His head was to be stuck on a pike on the walls of the Red Keep until there was nothing but bone.

Robb's nerves were ragged, but it did not show as he climbed down the steps of the platform to join Margaery and Sansa who both respectively held him for a moment. The Royal Party then ventured to the Great Sept of Baelor where they would be splitting ways. Robb and his personal guard and soldiers would go to the Lion Gate to take the Goldroad to Lannisport and face the last of the Lannister army and regroup with the Northmen and Riverlords. Sansa, Margaery and her family would be taking two thousand men back to Highgarden via the Roseroad and the half-destroyed Mud Gate. Lord Mace would continue to raise a reserve force in the Reach for any situation that might arise. It was here that Robb exchanged yet another goodbye with his betrothed and his sister.

"Be good." Robb said to Sansa who nodded slightly, grieving still for her baby brothers before she hugged Robb as best as he could with his armor on.

"Be safe, Robb. Please." Sansa said quietly into his ear, before letting go of her brother to smile at Margaery and return to her horse. Margaery herself gave Robb a look that was crossed between worry and admiration.

"You remember what I said?" she asked him as they held each other's hands for a moment.

"I will do better." He promised her, before leaning in to chastely kiss her.

"And then I will return to make you Queen Margaery Stark." Robb said, causing Margaery to smile slightly as she placed a nimble hand on the side of his bearded face.

"Go on, you. Win this war." She said, pressing a small lilac scarf into his hand.

"A favor from your lady for good luck." She said, causing Robb to chuckle and thank her.

With that, the two parties split. Robb and his guard joined the massive column of men that marched steadily down the Goldroad for Lannisport.

* * *

Author's Note: Thank you all for the feedback, do keep it coming :)  
This was fun, but I still quite enjoyed the Purple Wedding...


	15. Chapter 15

While Robb had been forced to go to Storm's End, the Northern Army had loyally carried on his orders of seizing the lightly fortified castles and mines of the Westerlands for plundering. Greatjon Umber, Lord of Last Hearth had been named acting Warden of the North in Robb's stead while he negotiated with Renly. The Greatjon had been highly honored by the appointment and championed his King, whom he had first nominated for the crown to begin with, without fail; capturing Ashemark, The Crag, Sarsfield, the Banefort and the Golden Tooth along with the mines of Castamere. Half the west had fallen to the Northmen by the time Renly had been murdered and Robb had won the allegiance of his army.

By the time Brienne of Tarth arrived in the West, the Northeners were garrisoned ten miles from Lannisport and Casterly Rock and morale was high amongst the Northeners. Brienne's white flag was first spotted by men from Winterfell, who honorably received the Lady of Tarth who showed them the grey wax seal of House Stark.

"I come with news from King Robb for Lord Umber." She declared to two of Ser Rodrik Cassel's own former squires.

"Is the King well?"

"He is of good health, but King Renly Baratheon has-…he has-…perished…murdered by Stannis Baratheon. I have orders for Lord Umber from the King. Urgent orders." Brienne repeated to the men who leapt to attention and led Brienne through the grey-tented camp towards the war council.

Lord Umber was holding council with Lady Maege Mormont of Bear Island, Ser Robett Glover of Deepwood Motte, Lord Rickard Karstark of Karhold, Ser Ryman Frey of the Twins and Lord Roose Bolton of the Dreadfort when Brienne entered the tent.

"My lords, my lady." Brienne greeted with a respectful bow of her head before stepping further into the tent to present the Greatjon with a sealed letter for his eyes only.

"I bring word from King Robb. His Grace was negotiating an alliance with King Renly Baratheon and joined King Renly at Storm's End when the traitor and murderer Stannis Baratheon besieged the castle. Stannis murdered Renly and almost killed King Robb-…"

"Was he injured?" barked Maege Mormont, placing her fists on the war table, only to receive a shake of the head from Brienne.

"The King is in good health. He captured Stannis and has won the allegiance of Renly's army. He marches on King's Landing and wishes for the Northen Army to proceed to Lannisport in an effort to draw Tywin Lannister back home."

"Will the _King_ be joining us?" came a quiet but sarcastic voice, causing all in the tent to turn to Roose Bolton.

"Watch your tongue, Bolton. King Robb is trying to win a war across Seven Kingdoms. We will do as he commands." The Greatjon said gruffly, breaking the seal of the letter and beginning to read the letter that detailed Robb's betrothal to Margaery and his fear that the Freys would betray them, of Robb now being claimed as King of Westeros by over 100, 000 men. The Greatjon felt a sense of pride for Ned's boy, who had left seeking an alliance and had won the Iron Throne and the hand of the most beautiful girl in the Seven Kingdoms.

"There's more isn't there. Something you're not telling us." Roose Bolton said, looking from the Greatjon to Brienne. It was the Greatjon who spoke first, rising from his chair and folding Robb's letter.

"Aye, there's more. Our King is no longer just the King-in-the-North. He is being championed as King by Renly Baratheon's army. The time for Wolves is upon us, my lords and lady!" The Greatjon roared, earning a shocked look from the council.

"They want him to take the Iron Throne?" Robett asked with wide eyes.

"Aye, they do. And I can think of no better man to sit his royal arse on it than our King. We have our orders! Prepare to march on Lannisport. King Robb wants Tywin to come running onto our swords, we have to entice him further!" Jon's booming voice cleared the tent, leaving Brienne with the Greatjon who sobered very quickly.

"4000 men, the Freys number. This is a dangerous game we play." Lord Umber stated, unfolding Robb's letter once more.

"What do you think they will do?" Brienne asked, placing her calloused hands on her sword belt to observe the Greatjon.

"March home. Gods be damned who is King, they will claim King Robb broke his oaths…which he has, in truth…" the Greatjon sighed, running a hand through his rough beard.

"Very well, join me, Lady Brienne was it? Time to test their loyalties." The Greatjon strapped his sword to his waist before leading Brienne from the tent and marching through the camp. He commanded men to arm themselves and be prepared for any trouble and to spread word to only their fellow Northmen. By the time Lord Umber reached Ser Ryman's tent, only the Frey men were unarmed and loitering by their tents.

"Ser Ryman!" Jon barked, before marching into the tent to see the Heir to the Twins with his face between the breasts of a buxom camp follower who blushed and covered up at the sight of the fearsome Greatjon.

"Good gods, man. Are you not married?" barked Lord Umber with distaste, sending the woman scurrying from the tent and causing a red faced Ser Ryman to splutter for a moment.

"We were only together a half hour ago! How did you-…never mind, it matters not. I have news for you, Ser Ryman. King Robb has had to make a new agreement with the Tyrells…one to secure their alliance and his near one hundred thousand strong army, he is to wed Margaery Tyrell." The Greatjon said, causing Ser Ryman to nod for a moment before the slow-witted man slowly put two and two together.

"Hold on! But the boy owes _us_! He is to wed one of my sisters!" Ser Ryman stammered, standing up to have his large belly fall from his open tunic, causing a moment of awkward tension in the tent.

"He is your King, have respect" The Greatjon stated plainly.

"To the Seven Hells with respect! He is an oathbreaker!"

"Oh, and you stand by the oaths you made to your wife? Your oaths as a knight? Don't make me laugh." The Greatjon said causing Ser Ryman to go red and splutter angrily.

"House Frey withdraws from the Northern cause immediately!" Ser Ryman stated, buttoning his doublet furiously and walking towards Lord Umber who simply tilted his head at the smaller, wider man.

"It is not the Northern cause anymore. He will be King of all the Seven Kingdoms. Withdraw, and King Robb will destroy House Frey and The Twins once he is done with the Lannisters. Your numbers matter little to him now. Take your men and go, but will you really earn the ire of the new King while he still settles his matters across the Kingdoms?"

"Fuck Robb Stark! And fuck you!" Ryman spat, taking two attempts to draw his sword and idiotically challenge the Greatjon to a duel. Perhaps it was the blood pumping through him from the camp follower's breasts, perhaps Ryman was pushed to his limit by Greatjon's japes, or perhaps the man was simply as stupid as he looked when he tried to run Lord Umber through with his sword only to have Jon duck out of the tent and into the camp and eyes of the soldiers. Ryman blindly charged out, swinging his sword and still half dressed.

"Stand down!" the Greatjon roared, drawing his own sword as Ryman circled him blindly.

"The King does not wish to harm you or your men, but I will do so if you continue to slander him and belligerently challenge me."

"He is an oathbreaker! A fool of a boy! And he will rue the day he crossed House Frey! Men of the Twins! Attack the Northmen!" Ryman roared, causing the drunk and sleeping men of the Twins throughout the camp to try and rise, only for the well-prepared Northmen to quickly incapacitate and capture their former allies. Some of the Freys such as Black Walder, Ser Ryman's son, was quick enough to kill four of the Northmen who tried to place him in shackles before he was feathered with over a dozen arrows from Mormont bowmen.

"Ser Ryman, stand down!" the Greatjon called again as Ryman wildly stared around him to see his father's men being captured or butchered by the Stark force.

"NO! HE BROKE HIS OATH! HE BROKE HIS OATH!" Ryman insisted, charging forward to engage the Greatjon and haphazardly smashing his sword down on the Greatjon's over and over again only for Jon to push the other man slightly with his elbow before swinging his greatsword once with a single hand, sending the blade halfway through Ryman's torso and causing him to scream in horrid pain as his sword clattered to the ground.

"Ngh…I-… Ryman gurgled, trying to raise his hands to his chest before Lord Umber withdrew his sword and caused Ryman to collapse. The surviving Frey men surrendered upon the death of their commander and his son, throwing their swords down bitterly to be taken captive by the Northmen.

* * *

"I see you are keeping things from us, Lord Umber." Roose Bolton stated a little while later as he stood with the Greatjon and Lady Mormont watching an envoy ride to Riverrun to inform Edmure Tully of House Frey's betrayal.

"Only what I needed to keep our men alive, Bolton." The Greatjon growled, turning to tower over the Leech Lord.

"Our King will soon return to us with one hundred thousand men. Ser Ryman was a fool, we all knew it, instead of marching home where he could have sued for peace and received a boon from the King, he attacked me and ordered his own men to turn on the Northmen. Ser Helman must secure the Twins at once until King Robb arrives. Word cannot escape this camp that the Frey force has turned their cloak. We will begin a slow march for Lannisport until the King can arrive. Ready your troops." The Greatjon ordered, causing Maege to nod and turn on her heel for the camp while Roose Bolton lingered to hold Lord Umber's gaze for a while.

"And what if King Robb is killed at King's Landing surrounded by his new southern army?" Roose asked quietly, causing Lord Umber to growl and take a step towards him.

"Then we fight to place his brothers on the Throne in his stead. We are Stark men, and I will kneel to no other. Ready your men." The Greatjon repeated before returning to camp and leaving Roose Bolton alone.

"Stark men." He scoffed quietly, before clasping his hands behind his back to look out at the orange sunset of the Westerlands on the edge of camp, one of his Lieutenants crept up quietly to join him.

"Locke. I have a task for you. Raise four men to ride out in the night with you."

"For where, my lord?" rasped the weedy but sadistic looking Locke.

"Harrenhal." Roose said simply, turning to look at Locke with his cold, cruel eyes before returning to camp as well.

* * *

"I do not trust him." The Greatjon said in his tent to Robett Glover, Ser Wylis Manderly and Lady Maege Mormont.

"As you rightly shouldn't." Maege said, leaning back in her chair to pick her teeth after having enjoyed a hunk of roasted boar.

"It would be foolish to send him anywhere where he can cause trouble…but to keep him here is a risk as well." The Greatjon sighed, pouring himself a large flagon of ale.

"The King intends to march North, does he not?" Ser Robett asked the council at large as he wiped his hands on a rag.

"Aye. The Lannisters first, and then the Ironborn scum holding our homes." The Greatjon sighed, scratching his rough beard before consuming his ale in a single gulp, an almighty belch followed that earned a chuckle from the Northmen.

"We could make use of him until the King returns…we could send him North." Ser Wylis suggested through a mouthful of boar.

"North?" Maege asked incredulously "To his death? He'll know what we are doing."

"No. Not to cross the Moat. To garrison before it, blockade supplies from the south and bleed them until the rest of the army can arrive. It would be logical." Ser Wylis said, stopping to eat long enough to explain his plan.

"Now there's a thought…" The Greatjon said with a slow nod of his head.

* * *

The next day as the main Northern host continued west towards Lannisport, Lord Roose Bolton rode at the fore of a host comprised of Bolton, Dustin and Ryswell men for the North. The Leech Lord had been clearly angered by the order, but had not the power nor the backing to defy the Greatjon, nor any reason to deny that the plan made sense. The Moat was preventing the Northmen from returning home, and Bolton himself wanted to return to the Dreadfort when this war was done.

The Greatjon, Lady Maege, Ser Wylis and Ser Robett were at the head of the main host sharing a chuckle amongst themselves for having rid themselves of Lord Roose Bolton.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Just wanted to show what was happening with his Northmen while he was marching on King's Landing :)  
Do leave a review!**


	16. Chapter 16

Catelyn Tully could not believe what she was hearing. She could not comprehend the information that was hitting her within this short space of time as she stood in court beside her brother Edmure and their uncle Brynden in Riverrun. A blonde woman, taller than even Edmure was and armored in fine bronze had arrived to the castle in the middle of the night looking as though she had not slept in days. Her horse had nearly collapsed when taken to the stables, and the Lady Brienne herself looked like she might do the same.

"He went to seek an alliance with Renly-…" Edmure began, looking away from the letter that the Greatjon had written to him.

"And now he's King on the Iron Throne." Brynden finished, his tone clearly relaying that he was impressed with Robb's accomplishments.

"Have we any word from King's Landing?" Catelyn asked the men desperately only to receive hollow shakes of the head in return.

"The Northmen are about to make a slow march for Casterly Rock in an effort to continue King Robb's plan to draw Tywin Lannister into the west so that the Riverlords may attack him from the rear." Edmure explained, handing the Blackfish the letter before rising from his chair.

"I still do not like the idea of letting Tywin Lannister through my lands unbloodied."

"For heavens sake, boy. The King's plan is far more important than whatever glory you are trying to seek for yourself. Though this news of the Freys is greatly troubling. How many men did they take prisoner?" Brynden asked Brienne who shrugged.

"I imagine no less than two thousand men survived from the Frey's betrayal. Ser Ryman and his sons all perished in the fighting. Walton Frey is now Heir to the Twins and is in Lord Umber's custody along with his son Steffon. Lord Walder has yet to learn of this yet, I am afraid." Brienne explained, causing Catelyn to hold her head in her hands.

"Walder Frey is a dangerous man to cross, and we just attacked his army and killed his sons and grandsons."

"My lady, that is not true. Ser Ryman attacked Lord Umber and called for the men of the Crossing to attack the Northmen even though Lord Umber called for him to stand down. The Greatjon was left no choice…" Brienne declared to Catelyn who shook her head and pinched the bridge of her nose fraught with worry.

"Lady Brienne, I thank you for bringing us this message. You have served the King honorably. I invite you to rest in Riverrun before joining the march on Tywin Lannister when it is time." Edmure said, causing Brienne to bow gratefully.

"A bed would not be amiss, my lord. I have ridden hard to bring you this word-." Brienne was cut off by the doors to the grand hall of Riverrun being slammed open and Lord Jason Mallister rushing in with a horde of men.

"My Lord Edmure! Tywin Lannister and his men have abandoned Harrenhal and march west! What are your orders?" Jason asked, clearly aching to march out and face the Lion. Edmure stood silent for a moment chewing his lip, sharing his bannerman's desire. But a sharp look from his Uncle Brynden reminded him of his duty.

"We hold Riverrun, per King Robb's orders. We must allow the Old Lion to cross the Fords and return to the West, where we will march after him into his own country and join our allies, the Northmen in destroying the Lannisters once and for all! You have your orders, my lords. Any attempt to stall Tywin Lannister could hinder King Robb's plan greatly." Edmure's words caused some unhappiness within the gathered lords, but ultimately they understood the need for the delay.

"My lord, there is word from King's Landing of a great army marching onto Joffrey and Queen Cersei." Said Lord Jonos Bracken of Stone Hedge, causing Edmure and Catelyn to glance at each other.

"What more, Lord Jonos?" Edmure asked, walking down from the ruling seat of the Lords of House Tully to face his bannerman who shrugged.

"They say the Young Wolf leads them now as King and seeks the Iron Throne. But I thought Renly led the Reachmen and the Stormlands did he not?" Bracked asked, causing Edmure to chuckle.

"Much has changed since our King rode South. Stannis Baratheon murdered his own brother, and our King stepped in to seize his army and arrest the kinslayer. The Seven Kingdoms will finally be united under a worthy king, King Robb Stark, first of his name!" Edmure called, earning cheers from the gathered Riverlords.

"Prepare the armies, my lords. For the Riverlords will chase the lion back into his den."

* * *

 **Author's Note: And here is the gist of what was happening in the Riverlands, Edmure was not foolhardy and actually listened to Robb, thanks in a large part to Brynden and Catelyn's presence and Robb's earlier detour through Riverrun on his way south to meet Renly. Had Edmure known of Robb's plan, he would not have engaged Tywin and Gregor Clegane at the Stone Mill and the Battle of the Fords.**


	17. Chapter 17

A group of riders clad in the yellow and orange of House Martell made their steady trek down the red-stone road for the Water Gardens. The sun overhead was blinding, and the heat caused the ground itself to sizzle, such was Dorne. But within the palace itself was an oasis of fountains and pools that served as a respite from the harsh conditions beyond its walls.

The gates of the Water Gardens were opened and the riders charged into the main courtyard, removing the wraps that protected their faces from the searing heat and sand to reveal the personal guard of Prince Oberyn Martell, who was himself dismounting his horse to throw his riding silks at a waiting squire.

"Prince Oberyn, welcome to-." began Prince Doran's steward, who walked forward with a bow, only to be silenced by his master's younger brother placing a finger on his lips and walking past him.

"Doran!" Oberyn called, walking through the halls of the Water Gardens as he unwrapped his sweat-stained silks to drop them to the ground as he walked. "Doran!" Oberyn called again and again until he found the large and stalwart Areo Hotah guarding a pavilion where his regal but gout impaired brother was sitting.

"Move aside, Areo." Oberyn said dismissively walking past his brother's Captain to kneel before Doran.

"Brother." Oberyn greeted respectfully, only for Doran to curl his fingers upwards for Oberyn to rise.

"Brother. What brings you here with such haste? Good news, I hope." Doran Martell was smaller than his brother, but commanded more power with his voice than any man in Dorne. He was a true ruler, wise beyond his years and often underestimated by his enemies. Save for a Young Wolf whose message was tucked into Oberyn's belt.

"One might say that." Oberyn smiled, walking towards a small table to pour himself a glass of pure Dornish red. He took a grateful sip from the goblet, before turning back to his brother.

"The Lannisters have fallen. King's Landing is taken by Robb Stark and an army of one hundred thousand." Oberyn said almost gleefully, causing Doran to raise an eyebrow.

"He did not have such numbers the last we heard? Where did get this army? Has his mad aunt, the Lady Lysa finally joined the war?" Doran asked curiously causing Oberyn to shake his head as he took another gulp of wine.

"They say the boy went to meet with Renly Baratheon in the Stormlands, seeking an alliance. While there Stannis Baratheon popped up and murdered Renly. Robb Stark took control and they say he now commands the strongest host in the Seven Kingdoms, and he executed that little shit, Joffrey." Oberyn chuckled, sitting on a chaise in front of his brother to pick a grape off a fruit bowl.

"You seem overjoyed." Doran noted dryly, causing Oberyn to raise his hands.

"Are you not? Dead Lannisters are what we have always craved brother, and here the Young Wolf has offered us something to bring us into the fold. I say the boy is very smart." Oberyn pulled the letter from his belt and offered it to Doran who unfurled the scroll and read it once before freezing and having to read it several more times.

"Justice…" Doran breathed, looking up to Oberyn who nodded.

"Tywin Lannister, Amory Lorch and Gregor Clegane. Ours. Ours to kill, ours to torture, ours to hold prisoner, so long as we swear him fealty."

"Dorne for the lives of three men?" Doran asked his brother, leaning back to place his chin thoughtfully in his hands. Oberyn rose from his seat.

"No. Dorne's loyalty to a man who will give us justice for Elia. I know we have an oath to the Targaryens, but Viserys is dead and Arianne grows ever more rebellious. This boy is the son of Ned Stark-." Oberyn was cut off by Doran who was himself interrupted by Oberyn

"Who assisted Robert Baratheon in killing Rhaegar and Elia-."

"Ned Stark had nothing to do with that, brother. You know as well as I. What were the stories we heard? That Elia, Aegon and Rhaenys' bodies caused such a feud between the Wolf and the Stag that only the death of Lyanna Stark brought them back together. I met him once, he was a good man. His son has been undefeated in this war, and from all accounts his men love him. He wants peace, Doran. Peace across the Seven Kingdoms. I support his claim. I believe you should as well." Oberyn declared to his brother who sighed and rubbed his eyes.

"Yes. For Elia…yes." Doran said finally after a long, long time, looking up at Oberyn with a cold glint in his eyes.

"Raise a force and ride to King's Landing at once. Swear our loyalty and bring back our sister's killers." Doran charged Oberyn fiercely, who in turn looked scarily pleased as he nodded back to his brother.

"The Age of the Wolf." Oberyn smiled, raising his glass in a toast to Robb Stark.

* * *

Author's Note: And here we have Dorne :)


	18. Chapter 18

A massive column of men flying the banners of House Stark marched for the castle of Deep Den that had been overcome by the force of fifty thousand men that Robb Stark had sent west a day ahead of the men he led now. That initial force was garrisoned in and around the seat of House Lydden waiting to regroup.

"Davos Seaworth wishes a word, Your Grace." Said a breathless rider who had ridden to the head of the column where Robb was riding with Ser Garlan, Lord Bryce Caron, Smalljon Umber and Dacey Mormont.

"Gods…what now?" Robb sighed, tugging at his reigns to follow the rider back to end of the massive column of men where the high-value prisoners were being held. Davos Seaworth was shackled but on top of a horse when Robb approached him.

"Your Grace." Davos greeted with a bow of his head.

"Ser Davos. I'm told you wish to speak. If so, do it quickly." Robb said, holding his horse's reigns firmly in hand as he trotted beside Ser Davos.

"Aye. I wish to beg for your pardon…I have reconsidered your offer and I wish to serve you. I know now…that my Lord Stannis, though he was a good man, was lost to his fire god. I have spent…much time amongst these men, and they all have nothing but love for you. Stannis ruled with fear. You rule with respect. I wish to serve a good King. A true King. I know that a punishment must be served…and…I have lost my left hand to Stannis' justice already. But what-…"

"Enough, Ser Davos. I am told that you served as Stannis' Hand. And that you were a pirate once."

"Smuggler." Davos corrected out of habit, only to bow his head.

"Alright. Smuggler. I'm told you're a capable man and you served Stannis loyally. I was there when he called for you to be taken to the stocks. I sent your sons home because I am keeping you hostage, ser. If you wish to join my service, how do I know I can trust you?" Robb asked, causing Davos to sigh.

"I cannot give you a reason, in truth. But what I can promise you is that so long as you are a good man and a good King, you have my loyalty." Davos said, causing Robb to sigh and rub his brow.

"Take off his shackles." Robb said as they rode into the courtyard of Deep Den, where Daryn Hornwood and Patrek Mallister were waiting to yield the castle to Robb after having seized it in his name.

"Your Grace?"

"You heard me. Take off his shackles, give him a bath, then bring him to my chambers." Robb said, pulling off his riding gloves to walk into the castle.

"Lady Lydden?" Robb asked Patrek as he walked.

"Held in her chambers, her children as well." Patrek reported as Robb sighed.

"Aye. Find their mines and safes and seize half for royal confiscation." Robb commanded to Patrek and Daryn who both bowed eagerly and walked away to complete his order.

Robb himself took a set of guest chambers for his own that night, waiting for Ser Davos and word from the Northmen as he paced before the fire after having washed his face with a bowl of fresh water. He held the mantelpiece as he stared into the flames, Grey Wind was curled on the four poster bed of the guest chambers and perked up when there was a knock on the door.

"Enter." Robb called, turning to see two Tyrell guards leading in Davos Seaworth who looked freshly cleaned and fed, behind Davos was Dacey Mormont, Garlan Tyrell and Smalljon Umber.

"Ser Davos. Feeling better?" Robb asked as Davos was placed in a seat before the King's desk while the two guards stepped back to stand by the door of the chambers. Robb's friends loitered around the back of the chambers behind Ser Davos, with Dacey leaning against a wall to fold her arms, Garlan sitting on a high-backed chair to eye Davos and Smalljon pouring himself a glass of wine.

"Much, Your Grace. Thank you." Davos said gruffly, adjusting his clothes and throwing the Tyrell guards a glare for handling him so roughly.

"Firstly, you have never wronged me, Ser Davos. You rebelled against Joffrey as I did. You spoke out against Stannis when you learned he tried to have me killed. If you say that you can be trusted, I will give you that faith. But if you betray me, then you will wish you had not. Simply look to what I will do to Petyr Baelish and Theon Greyjoy in the weeks to come." Robb said grimly, causing Davos to blink before chuckling.

"I was told that you were a fearsome warrior, a noble King. I looked at you and at first I saw a boy. I see now what they mean. You are a Stark indeed, Your Grace. My loyalty you shall have. And the first bit of advice I offer you is to rise now and march for Lannisport at once. I have heard rumors in the back of the train that Tywin Lannister has already left Harrenhal-.."

"Aye. He has. But I do not know if my Northmen and Riverlords have heeded my orders. If they have not, I could be marching my men into a slaughter." Robb said, sitting behind the desk of the guest chambers to look at Davos who leaned forward and shook his head.

"I have belief that they have. Correct me if I am wrong, Lady Mormont, Lord Umber?" Davos asked, turning in his chair to look at the young Northerners who look somewhat startled.

"He's…he's right, Robb. I know my father would have followed your orders without fail." Smalljon said, lowering his goblet of wine with heavy thought.

"As would my mother. If you asked them to draw Tywin out, they've done that. You ask them to meet you at Lannisport they will do the same. I think he's right, Robb. We should march out now. Tywin could be reaching Lannisport at any moment." Dacey advised, walking forward to place her hands on Robb's desk.

"Very well. Sound the horn. We march as soon as the armies are ready. Find Ser Davos some armor and a sword. He will ride with us." Robb declared, rising from his seat and causing his men to stand to attention and heed his word at once.

Before dawn and in the dark of the night, Robb's southern army marched from Deep Den towards Lannisport.

* * *

At the same time Lannisport fell to the Northern Army. The Greatjon commanded a silent siege of the city before the alarm could be raised to alert Casterly Rock. The few dozen Lannister men-at-arms on duty were killed around the city as the Northern Army silently filed in to hide on the beaches and in the buildings, waiting for their time to ambush the Lannister army.

Casterly Rock, held by one of Tywin Lannister's distant cousins was completely unaware of anything amiss the next day as the few remaining people of Lannisport noticed an obvious absence of the normal Lannister guards in the city. Sensing danger, the remaining citizens of the city evacuated with all haste, going down the Ocean Road where they would avoid the armies of their liege lord and the Young Wolf. The dozens of their citizen did raise some alarm in the castle, and from the manse in the city that Lord Jon Umber had seized, he could see that Casterly Rock was sealing its gates and drawing its bridges. Amazed at what he saw and that an army of near twelve thousand Northmen was able to hide unnoticed in and around the large city of lions, the Greatjon returned to the dark master chambers of the manse to thoughtfully scratch his beard. If his plan went on successfully, then Tywin would arrive in Lannisport unaware of an ambush while waiting for Casterly Rock to open its gates.

The scouts had reported that Tywin Lannister was a mere hour away, and would arrive in Lannisport before the sun had reached its midpoint. They had also received word that Edmure Tully and the Riverlords were snapping at his heels and the rumor was that Tywin hoped to raise a reserve force in Lannisport to challenge Edmure in battle.

The Greatjon laughed at that, for the Old Lion had no idea that King Robb marched from King's Landing with an overwhelming force. The Greatjon hoped that Robb was not far off…or else this plan relied on the heavily subtracted numbers of the Northerners and the skill of the Riverlords, of whom Jon's opinion was not high. Lord Umber walked down to the main hall of the manse where over two hundred men of House Umber were crammed and waiting. This was the manse of House Lannister of Lannisport, unguarded and easily taken by House Umber in the night.

"I want every man rested and ready for the moment Tywin Lannister arrives. He will be expecting us…so let us greet him with flames. Burn the Lannister manse after we have taken all the plunder we can. Leave the other houses intact." The Greatjon ordered to his assembled men, earning a roar of approval as the men began to confiscate gold and jewels in Robb Stark's name.

* * *

Ser Edmure and his army of near twelve thousand Riverlanders were on the heels of Tywin's army and had managed to avoid engaging them in true battle as of yet. Brynden Tully had been the major cause for that, ensuring that Edmure never did anything more than bleed the stragglers and slow riders of Tywin's army.

"I tell you again, boy. We cannot fight him in the open. The Northmen await us in Lannisport!" Brynden called to Edmure as they fiercely galloped in the center of the vanguard that rode with all haste after Tywin's army.

"We are too far away to be of any use if he engages them soon! The sun will reach its midpoint soon, we must reach Lannisport!" Edmure insisted, urging his horse forward ahead of his uncle Brynden who rolled his eyes and followed after his nephew.

* * *

Author's Note: The Battle of Lannisport is coming!


	19. Chapter 19

Tywin of the House Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock, the Shield of Lannisport and Warden of the West had been born a strong son to a weak man. Tytos Lannister had openly been called the Toothless Lion and the name was not unfounded. For all that Tytos had done, he had nearly destroyed the near-limitlessly wealthy House of Lannister, and Tywin had been the man to build the Golden Lions back to their place of prestige.

His children had destroyed his work with a simple act. Tywin refused to believe the rumors that his children had committed this foul deed, that his legacy was a lie. But as the tide turned against him, the mutterings began to get louder and louder. And he overheard his own Captain of the Guard saying he witnessed Jamie and Cersei embracing once in Casterly Rock.

Tywin had of course had the man immediately killed for such slander, but it had kept him awake that night. Could it be true? Had his golden twins failed him so?

Tywin had once commanded the favored side in this war, and now in the space of a fortnight he had become the underdog, the man set to fail. Robb Stark was a boy and Tywin had lost every battle to him. He had not only been claimed King by his Northmen but by the Riverlords, the Reachmen and the Stormlords in turn. The bannermen of House Arryn had known Ned Stark well and would support his son when the time came for it, and all the boy would have to do to gain Dorne would be to sell Tywin's head to Oberyn Martell.

The knowledge that he was about to be remembered as the man who lost the Lannister dynasty to a boy-king did nothing but drive the Lion Lord further on. He would not yield. He would fight on, he was a lion. He was _the_ lion.

That was what he told himself until he learned that Joffrey had been executed, Tyrion attacked, Cersei imprisoned and half the great castles of the Westerlands seized and plundered for House Stark. Tywin had been in a black rage and ordered the immediate abandonment of Harrenhal. Once in the safety of Casterly Rock, the Wolf's Pup had no hope of catching Tywin. The Lord of the Westerlands simply needed to outride Robb Stark and evade the Northmen, who by all accounts from his scouts were marching on Kayce. It was a gamble, but with Tywin having no other card to play, it was a gamble he had to take.

That was what he reasoned to himself as he rode at the fore of this thirty-thousand strong host into the city of Lannisport. Relief threatened to wash over Tywin as he saw Casterly Rock loom over the great city like a safe beacon. He dug his heels into his horse to urge it to go faster as the host began to march down a steep hill towards the main street of Lannisport.

"Sound the horn, I want the gates opened." Tywin said to his brother Kevan who nodded warily, and signaled to the horn-blower who made to raise the horn to his lips only to stop as a different war horn began to blow ominously from the center of Lannisport. At first the Lannister army did not realize anything was amiss until, yells and shouts began to form as the men noticed a great cloud of black smoke rising from the center of the city.

"Tywin-…it's the manse-…" Kevan began only to be cut off as another horn began to echo from the forests behind the army on the River Road. Tywin's heart seized in his throat as the army began to get confused and panic. The remaining Western generals worked to regain control of the men and form their lines as a third horn began to sound from the east. A horn that sent a chill down the spines of Tywin Lannister and his army.

"TO ARMS!" Tywin roared after a beat of silence. The bells of Casterly Rock began to toll as Northmen flooded out of houses, shops, manses and other buildings of Lannisport to charge towards the Lannister army, a mounted force of Northmen rode from the beach with a fury that could not be contained. The Greatjon himself killed four Lannister cavalrymen within moments with unnatural agility for a man of his size. His sword had been almost a silver blur as he hacked and slashed his way through.

From the rear, Edmure Tully's cavalry charged through Tywin's unsuspecting footmen with a bloodthirsty vengeance. The Riverlords and the Northmen flew the banners of a grey direwolf upon a white field, which became more and more prevalent throughout the chaos as the two armies worked their way through the Western Force towards each other. The Lannister standard was abandoned or trampled upon, multiple bolts of red and gold cloth fell by the hundreds as the Wolf overcame the Lion.

From the east, King Robb Stark sat mounted on his horse atop a hill, looking down at the initial skirmish. His southern army was gathered behind him like lava waiting to flow down the mountainside, with a single movement, Robb unsheathed _Ice_ from the scabbard on his back and with great strength lifted the sword skyward towards the battle.

" _FOR WINTERFELL_!" Robb roared as he led the men down the mountainside. It was a monumental sight, had anyone been watching, as an army so large it could not be comprehended swallowed the mountain and the filed to move towards the battle and the city. A few other buildings by now had caught afire, and any Lannister standard that was seen hanging was instantly set ablaze by beserking Northmen.

The southern army split in two as they reached the bottom of the mountain to join the Northmen heading for the rear and the Riverlords heading for the fore. Robb himself was galloping towards Casterly Rock where he knew Tywin Lannister would be.

 _Ice_ in his hand, Robb managed to cut through the armored soldiers of House Lannister with ease, and his reputation caused many of the men-at-arms to flee when they saw the Young Wolf charging towards them. Grey Wind was sprinting beside Robb to leap and charge at the back of Gregor Clegane who had killed almost thirty to forty Northern and Riverland soldiers around him. Clegane fell straight onto his face as Grey Wind mauled at his back before charging onwards to attack other red cloaked men. Clegane struggled to get up, and his disadvantage was used by a group of Northern and Reach soldiers who overwhelmed the Mountain and attacked him fiercely until Clegane was bloodied and unconscious in the mud.

Robb's orders were precise, and every man knew their duty. Beside him, Ser Garlan and Smalljon Umber were his guard as Tywin Lannister's armored form came closer and closer towards them.

Casterly Rock acted as fast as they could, opening the gates of the castle to allow the entire reserve force of House Lannister to join the battle, where they gained initial ground by attacking the Northmen from the rear. A moment passed before the reservist forces began to join their allies in being horribly destroyed by the united army of King Robb Stark.

Tywin Lannister seemed to be watching everything in slow motion, from the deaths of hundreds to thousands of his red-cloaked soldiers, to the charging of fierce-bearded Northmen and tall, strapping Rivermen. He could not respond as his brother Kevan was dragged off his horse and placed in shackles, he said nothing as his lords bannermen were feathered by arrows or cut in half by the Young Wolf's monstrously large greatsword. The sight of Robb Stark caused Tywin to grit his teeth and move forward, sword in hand. This damned boy had ruined everything. He'd killed his grandson and taken his children prisoner. Lannisters were not weak enough to be taken by this boy!

Tywin roared, charging forward to Robb Stark with his sword raised. He saw a flash of grey on his left before a huge force knocked him off his saddle and into the mud and blood of the battlefield. The direwolf gave Tywin a single, deep swipe across the face before charging off once more. Three lines of blood began to seep across his as Tywin's clutched at his head in pain.

Robb Stark's horse stopped just above the Lion Lord, covered in dirt and blood as his army and legacy fell around him. Ser Garlan, Smalljon Umber and his father the Greatjon, Ser Edmure and Ser Brynden Tully joined Robb to encircle Tywin with their horses.

"Tywin Lannister. As King of the First Men, the Andals and the Rhoynar, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, I hereby arrest you on the charges of high treason. Take him." Robb ordered, causing Garlan and Smalljon to dismount their horses and move to roughly take Tywin Lannister into custody.

Robb looked behind him to see that Tywin's remaining army of only a few thousand surviving men had surrendered amongst the piles of corpses. The United Army was falling back into rank to prepare their siege of Casterly Rock. Robb however had a feeling that they would face no opposition from the castle any longer.

* * *

His suspicions were confirmed just under an hour later when he sat on his horse at the gates to see that those inside the Rock had struck the banners of House Lannister and replaced them with peace banners.

"Who is castellan of this castle?" Robb asked as he led the mounted party into the castle to accept their surrender. A blonde man, who looked to be twenty to thirty years older than the Kingslayer walked forward to collapse to his knees before Robb.

The Young Wolf landed his feet on the ground to walk around and face the man who was known as Ser Damon Lannister, exchanging a glance with his Lords as he did so.

"Mercy, sire. Mercy. Casterly Rock is yours. We yield, we yield!" Damon Lannister stammered, clasping his hands over his head to beg Robb.

"Rise, ser. Your household will prepare to host my army." Robb ordered after a moment of glancing around at the terrified castle servants, his words causing Damon to vigorously nod, turning on his heel to yell at the servants to prepare a feast. Robb himself was covered in blood that was not his and was filled with an immense sense of satisfaction and pride as he looked at the proud, beaming faces of his lords.

"We have won." Robb declared on the steps of Casterly Rock's main hall. The Greatjon roared his approval first, causing his horse to trot nervously as the other lords joined in.

"THE KING FROM THE NORTH!"

 ** _"THE KING FROM THE NORTH! THE KING FROM THE NORTH!"_**

* * *

Author's Note: The Battle for Lannisport. An awesome battle of Robb Stark's three armies taking on Tywin before the walls of his own castle. I feel like this is payback for Tywin melting down _Ice_ and turning it into "Widow's Wail" and "Oathkeeper".

Now Robb is preparing the United Army to march North.


	20. Chapter 20

House Stark had claimed dominion of Casterly Rock and the plunder seized from the Westerlands as royal bounty, to be rewarded or held as Robb saw fit when the war was over. For a day and a night the United Army of King Robb Stark feasted and recuperated at Casterly Rock.

One thing that worried Robb was the revelation that had occurred the day after the Battle of Lannisport.

A small child, one of the castle servants had approached the King while he feasted. And without saying a word had dropped a scroll into Robb's lap. When unfurled, the message had detailed which Lord had betrayed Robb and forged an alliance with Tywin Lannister.

It was as Robb had suspected.

Roose Bolton.

On the second day following the Battle of Lannisport, Robb had given order for the new royal fleet to divide and sail around the coasts. Fifty ships went along the east coast towards the North, while ninety ships sailed along the west coast where the majority of the Ironborn strength was anchored. Robb had given leave for the Greatjon to lead the Northern Army along with ten thousand foot soldiers and seven thousand cavalry from the Reach and Stormlands towards Moat Cailin with all haste that morning. Robb had tasked the Greatjon with a mission of great import; ambushing Roose Bolton and his men. Robb would not tolerate another Bolton uprising again. If he was taking the Iron Throne by force, he would settle all matters of strife across the Seven Kingdoms once and for all.

The Greatjon would capture Roose while putting the rest of his men to the sword, Robb would then execute Roose Bolton for his treachery, as he would do to Theon Greyjoy and Petyr Baelish once the North was reclaimed.

As Robb made his way down to the dungeons of the castle, the Riverlords led by Robb's uncle Ser Edmure and another twenty-odd thousand men from the southern army was preparing to march North.

Robb himself would lead the last wave of the army later that afternoon, as soon as he finished his business with the Lions of the Rock.

Tywin Lannister and his family were arrested and kept in the deep dungeons of their own castle at Robb's orders where they were shamefully languishing as a result of Tywin and his children.

Jaime Lannister, who Robb had left with the Northern Army throughout the campaign had now joined his father in a cell, where the two lions had reportedly remained silent, until Robb appeared before them.

Jaime launched himself at the bars of his cell to spew profanities and curses on Robb for killing Joffrey and harming Cersei.

"All you do is prove that you were his father and her lover." Robb said calmly when Jaime's rattled off into a silence after a while. Jaime turned purple with rage at Robb's words and shook the cell furiously.

"Let me out, Stark! Let us settle this once and for all! You fight for the Starks and I fight for the Lannisters. You pick the weapon, boy!" Jaime spat, causing Robb to laugh.

"Settle what? You have fallen. You have failed. I have taken your castle away from you, I took King's Landing and I killed Joffrey. Cersei herself poisoned Tommen with-."

"YOU LIE!" Jaime roared, slamming his fists against the bars and causing Robb to simply shake his head.

"Gather your wits, Kingslayer. For you will need them to listen to what I am about to say. House Lannister's reign is over. Cersei is a prisoner of my betrothed in Highgarden, I was crowned by the High Septon on the Iron Throne before I took Joffrey's head, you have no men or influence left anywhere." Robb stated pacing before the cell to look mostly at Tywin who glared at Robb with hard green eyes.

"Tywin Lannister, for your crimes against the realm, I strip you of all lands, titles and holdings. You are to be taken back to King's Landing where you will be given to House Martell to answer for the murder of Princess Elia Targaryen and her children." Robb's words caused Tywin to smile coldly.

"Smart boy." Tywin said simply, before leaning back to fold his arms.

"Jaime Lannister. Lord Rickard Karstark has petitioned for your head for the murder of his sons. I am of a mind to give it to him. Instead, I am giving the both of you a gift. Lord Rickard will be left alone with you for ten minutes, you will be bound and gagged. He will beat you senseless." Robb explained as though they were talking about taking a casual ride.

"And my gift, Stark…?" Jaime asked testily, grasping the cell doors.

"Life, Jaime. I let you live. I have managed to convince Lord Rickard that I will present you with two choices. Be executed by him, or face a brutal beating and be exiled to the Wall to spend your days as a man of the Night's Watch. What will your decision be?" Robb asked calmly, his hand on the pommel of _Ice_ as he looked between father and son.

"You won this war by blind luck, boy. But your reign won't last. Daenerys Targaryen lives, and I pray to all the Gods than when she lands, she burns you and that whore Margaery Tyrell first."

"Sweet words, Ser Jaime. I'll ensure Lord Rickard's surviving son joins him when they knock your teeth in. Good day to you, Lannisters. Thank you for the excessive amount of gold and jewels you've hoarded over the years. It will certainly assist the repayment of the Iron Bank." Robb called as he turned on his heel to march away from the dungeon cell.

"Oh and one last thing. After Cersei and Joffrey tried to have him killed, Tyrion decided to swear his loyalty to me. After this war is done, I intend to name him Lord of Casterly Rock. Hope that realization sits well with you, Tywin." Robb said with a smile, before finally turning to walk up the stairs and leave the Lannisters to process their fates.

"I have no children." Tywin finally muttered, earning an eye-roll from Jaime.

"Oh shut up, you old fart."

* * *

Robb, the Blackfish, Smalljon, Dacey, Daryn Hornwood, Patrek Mallister and Robin Flint were standing outside one of the ancient torture chambers of Casterly Rock listening eagerly as Rickard Karstark and his son Harrion viciously attacked Jaime Lannister.

"I believe that's long enough, Your Grace, We don't want him to die yet." Brynden Tully finally said, earning a groan of disappointment from the crowd before Robb knocked on the door causing Rickard and Harrion to stop.

When the door opened, the Karstark men were breathless and looking enormously satisfied.

"Take your leave. Now." Robb commanded of them, before walking into the room to see that Jaime was covered in cuts and bruises as he lay drooling on the ground.

"Well. You look like you could use a Maester. I wonder how long my brother was lying at the bottom of that tower you pushed him off before help came for him. I hope you wonder that too as you lie here, Kingslayer." Robb said, walking out of the room as Jamie spat out a blood-soaked tooth.

Robb was angry, but he was not cruel. For one of the Maesters did move in to attend to Jaime not long after Robb left the room. His own satisfaction over the Lannister men was attained, Robb now set his sights on home. On Theon Greyjoy and the Iron Islands.

Leaving behind a garrison of five thousand men to hold Casterly Rock and one thousand to escort the Lannister hostages to King's Landing, Robb marched out of King's Landing with the remaining faction of his united army. If all had gone well, Ser Rodrik had bled the Ironborn at Moat Cailin from the North.

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Author's Note: Glad everyone likes the story :)


	21. Chapter 21

Margaery Tyrell closed her eyes as a fluffy white cloud passed overhead and the rays of the sun bathed the beautiful Rose of Highgarden. It had been three weeks since Margaery had left King's Landing, three weeks since she had last seen her betrothed, three weeks since she had even heard anything about his efforts in the war.

Her grandmother counseled patience, for if the Lannisters had won, the Tyrells would surely have known about it by now. Her father blustered around Highgarden importantly, though she could tell that he too was restless by the lack of news. From the grand pavilion in Margaery's luxurious chambers, she had a vantage point to watch her brother Loras drilling the soldiers that Robb had put under his command to protect Highgarden. Amongst the beautiful fountains and gardens of Highgarden, were hundreds of men with clashing swords and shields.

Margaery knew Loras was as restless as she was. At first he had been honored by the appointment to protect Margaery and Sansa in Highgarden, but Loras had quickly grown bored of his duty, having wished to seek further glory by Robb's side.

The only person whom Margaery could tell was happy was Sansa Stark, Robb's own sister. Margaery had come to love the sweet, innocent girl dearly, especially in the first few days of their being together when Margaery had coaxed Sansa to speak of her ordeal. The wolf girl had cried and wept for hours of the pain she sustained at the hands of Joffrey Baratheon, Margaery and her brother Willas had been there to support her. Recently Sansa had been spending most of her days with Willas, whom Margaery had never seen smile as much as he had when he was in the auburn-haired beauty's presence.

It warmed her heart to see her elder brother find happiness with Sansa, but it also served to remind her that her betrothed was out fighting a dangerous, dangerous war. Margaery had seen enough to know that Robb was formidable in battle, an undefeated warrior, a fierce wolf. _Her_ fierce wolf. She still worried for him, and worried that he would not return to her.

Margaery Tyrell had always wanted the crown, had always wanted to be the Queen. She knew she would make an amazing Queen, someone to rival and surpass even that of Good Queen Alysanne.

But having been in Robb's company, having grown to love him, and having already served as a Queen to another man…she truly meant what she said to Robb all those weeks ago. She wanted to be _his_ Queen. For she had never known a man of Westeros to respect the opinion of her and her grandmother so willingly, she had never known someone who could be so strong and fierce as a King and a commander whilst maintaining the ability to be a loving, tender man to the woman he loved, save for her brother Garlan with Leonette of course.

Margaery sighed, blowing a lock of her thick, curly brown hair out of her eyes as she did so. She only allowed herself a few moments of brooding before she returned to her life as the daughter of Highgarden and the soon-to-be-Queen. There was much to prepare for when Robb returned to establish his governance. Margaery knew that Olenna wished for her to persuade Robb to name Willas as Hand of the King, and as much as she knew her brother would make an amazing Hand, she had a feeling that her King had other ideas for who would serve him in that role…

Making her way down to the beautifully grand halls of Highgarden, Margaery was surprised to see knights rushing in from the courtyards into the receiving hall. Picking up her skirts, Margaery quickened her pace to follow in after them. Her father, Lord Mace, was sitting in court on the throne that the Kings of the Reach had once sat upon. Beside him was her mother Alerie and her grandmother the Lady Olenna. All three were looking with great interest to a man kneeling before them. He was dressed in the boiled leather armor of the Stark soldiers, but wore additional satchels and pouches upon it that denoted him as a messenger and envoy. Margaery's heart quickened as she pushed through the gathered court of Highgarden to stand beside Loras beneath the steps of their father's Lord's Seat.

"Margaery, we were waiting for you, my dear. Tell us your tale, my good ser. The King's consort has arrived." Mace stated, his words almost gleeful at the prospect of Margaery being Queen. The lady herself rolled her eyes, looking impatiently to the messenger who rose to speak.

"My lords, my ladies. I have been sent by His Grace, King Robb to bring word of his achievements in the West and in the North. After a hard march, the King joined his Northmen and the Riverlords just as the Battle of Lannisport began. Tywin Lannister was caught unawares as the Northmen acted as the hammer, and the Riverlords the anvil. King Robb's force joined the skirmish and the battle was shortly won under his leadership." The envoy explained, earning cheers from the court and a delighted clap of the hands from Mace.

"Casterly Rock yielded to the King as soon as Tywin Lannister and the Mountain were in his custody. The King has claimed Casterly Rock for House Stark until the war is done and has left behind five thousand swords under the command of Lady Maege Mormont to hold the castle until his return. The Lannisters have been sent to King's Landing. The Kingslayer and Lord Tywin languish in the Black Cells with Queen Cersei." This news brought louder cheers and roars from the crowd as Mace himself laughed.

"Why has the King gone North, instead of returning to us?" Mace demanded when the crowd settled down, earning an awkward silence. Olenna Tyrell, who would normally have spoken, instead gave her granddaughter a pointed gaze.

"My King must reclaim his country from the treasonous, Ironborn, father. Noble and just as he is, he must return his loyal Northmen to their homes and establish peace across the Seven Kingdoms." Margaery stated, earning nods of approval from the crowd who agreed with her sentiment. Mace sat back in his chair to mutter for a moment.

"Regardless, this news is great! Tonight Highgarden shall feast for the fall of the Lannisters!" Mace declared, rising from his chair. Margaery again rolled her eyes, before looking to the envoy who seemed to have more to say.

"What more, ser?" she asked of him, when quiet finally came to the hall once more.

"The King was betrayed by one of his own bannermen. Lord Roose Bolton conspired with Tywin Lannister, but the King was made aware of these plans before they could take place. The Greatjon Umber had earlier sent Lord Roose to Moat Cailin before the Battle, where he was garrisoned with his force. The King intended to ambush Lord Bolton and imprison him for execution. I was dispatched to Highgarden the night before this was to occur. I have been told that the United Army has crossed the neck and split in four divisions to cleanse the North of the Ironborn. I-…I am told however that, while Ser Garlan Tyrell is in good health and unhurt…the King took an unknown injury on the field. I have-…I have not heard any further of his condition." The envoy said, bowing his head. These words brought a solemn tension to the receiving hall. Margaery clenched her fists silently, looking from the envoy to her silent father, to her grandmother and lastly to Loras who shook his head.

Margaery clenched her jaw, walking forward to the platform with ever bit of regality she would have as Queen. Her words were passionate and strong even with her serene voice.

"The King has shown time and again that his prowess on the battlefield cannot be questioned. An injury he might have taken, but the Army carries on in his name. And I know in my heart that he lives. We must have faith, for I believe the good word will come soon, and at long last our Seven Kingdoms will be at peace under King Robb Stark, First of his Name."

* * *

 **Author's Note: Please do leave a review! I was listening to the House Stark soundtrack when I wrote this chapter, lol.**


	22. Chapter 22

A cold and cruel storm had captured Robb's United Army a day after they had past the castle of Seagard. Lord Jason Mallister, a commander in Robb's army had graciously hosted them for a night in his castle before their march continued. Robb had debated sending Riverlords home to fix what damage to their lands they could before the winter set in, but was swayed not to when Edmure and the Blackfish themselves declared that they would see this war out to the bitter end by Robb's side.

The army had been forced to march through mud and swamp to reach the Twins until the rains had finally subsided when the Crossing came into view. Robb himself approached House Frey's seat with apprehension, for he had heard of the fate that had befallen the Frey army and Walder's heirs while he had been besieging King's Landing. Robb knew that his Northmen were hard to control, he knew that they only answered to Starks and he knew that when he had to inevitably march back south after the North was retaken he needed to leave a strong Stark in control of Winterfell. His brothers were dead...there were no other male Starks left. The thought was once again pushed to the back of his mind as he, the Umber men, Lord Karstark, Dacey Mormont, Edmure Tully, the Blackfish, Ser Garlan and Ser Davos Seaworth stopped a ways off from the southern tower of the Twins.

"Give the order to halt." Robb said, a noted tone of confusion in his voice as he and his commanders looked out at the Twins. Replaced by the usual standard of House Frey on the walls of the southern castle was the grey direwolf upon a white field.

"I-…do not like the feeling of this." Robb stated, earning a chorus of murmured agreements from his men as they slowly approached the castle.

"Your Grace, look." Dacey's horse took a single step forward as she pointed to a bouncing yellow and orange light that was approaching them through the mist and drizzle of the cold night.

"It's a rider." Smalljon said, narrowing his eyes as he tried to focus on the light.

"Its three riders." Brynden Tully corrected, raising an eyebrow as he also urged his horse closer to Robb.

"They're flying your banners, Your Grace." Ser Davos observed as the three riders got closer towards them.

"So they are…" Robb said, feeling more confusion rise until he saw Ser Helman Tallhart, the Commander of 400 swords and archers he had left behind at the Twins.

"Ser Helman! Gods be good, you are indeed a sight for sore eyes."

"As are you, Your Grace. I hope my son, Benfred has already sworn you House Tallhart's loyalty to your cause." Ser Helman said, bowing his head respectfully as he sat mounted between two Stark men who carried Robb's standard.

"He has, Ser Helman. You are a recognized loyal bannerman, and when this war is done I will name you a Lord. But first you must tell me what is happening here at the Crossing? Has Lord Walder so been swayed to our cause?" Robb asked curiously, gesturing to the banners hanging off the Twins' turrets.

"Lord Walder is dead, Your Grace. News of the death of Ser Ryman and his sons and the destruction of House Frey's army by Lord Umber sent him into a black fury, when he stood up to begin screaming at me, he clutched at his chest instead and keeled over dead. The Maester says his heart could not take the anger. His death sent House Frey into a mad scramble, in-fighting broke out amongst the family as dozens slaughtered each other before Lord Walder's body was even cold. It was our force who established order and seized control of the Twins in your name, Your Grace. Walton Frey was killed in the skirmish along with his sons, Emmon Frey is also dead and it is said that his son Cleos was in your custody."

"Nay. Had his head bashed in with a morningstar when that oaf Ryman called the Frey men to arms against us." The Greatjon drawled in a semi-proud tone.

"The less Freys the better." The Blackfish commented, earning a look from the others.

"I've had wet shits that I enjoy more than Walder Frey. His death is a blessing believe me. The man was a blight on the realm as are his family. I urge you to demote them from lordly status, or even the seize the Crossing from them altogether and bestow it upon a non-hereditary Steward. This Crossing has long been a sore point for travel to the North and the Freys never made it easy. They are a foul, loathsome lot of weasels." Brynden counseled to Robb who looked greatly troubled by the notion of destroying a House that had once sworn him fealty.

"Let us cross." Robb said simply, avoiding saying any more on the matter as his closest counsel gazed at him for word.

"Aye, Your Grace, We will prepare the Twins at once. Lord Roose crossed not long ago."

Robb and his commanders were the first to enter the southern castle and cross the river to the northern castle. While the rest of the army continued to cross and made camp on the northern bank, Robb took chambers in the Frey castle as his own. Pulling his gloves off with a noted tone of annoyance, Robb hovered his palms over the roaring fire, enjoying its comforting warmth for a moment.

He was alone with his thoughts for a while before a knock at the door preceded Dacey Mormont and Smalljon Umber from entering his chambers.

"People are starting to think we are all involved in some horrid love-triangle." Smalljon said cheerfully, closing the door behind him. Dacey threw Jon a scathing look before crossing the chambers to pat Robb on the shoulder comfortingly.

"Robb, it wasn't your fault that Walder Frey died."

"Of course not. You were in Storm's End winning an army that has won you the war. My father and his men were engaged by Ryman. Ryman started this. The Freys turned against you, Robb. As did Roose Bolton. You do not need to feel guilt when dealing justice."

"Justice?" Robb asked, turning to look at his friend.

"What justice is there in a man dying of a heart attack? Learning of his sons and grandsons killed by men who were their allies?"

"Robb. Walder Frey was a terrible man. He extorted a marriage out of you and if Tywin Lannister had asked it of him, he would have betrayed you in a single stroke. Your leniency and faltering now will be remembered for the remainder of your rule. You must be firm and strong. The Blackfish gave you wise counsel. _I_ counsel you to heed it." Dacey said, moving to sit in one of the chairs by the fire. Robb sighed, looking to Smalljon who was leaning against a wall and eating an apple. He nodded his agreement with Dacey.

"She's always right, mate." Jon said through a mouthful of apple, earning a snort from Dacey and a half-smile from Robb.

"My uncle Edmure was to wed one of these Frey girls in my place, those were the initial terms I had set out. Perhaps instead I offer the Blackfish this. He could sire an heir of Tully and Frey blood that would be loyal to both the Tullys of Riverrun and the Stark's of Winterfell."

"Don't forget the Stark's of King's Landing." Smalljon grinned at Robb who wrinkled his nose in distaste.

"Gods…I hate that city. I wish I could rule from Winterfell. But its too far away…too cut off. If I win this war and return to the North…all that I have achieved could be undone if there isn't a strong leader in the south." Robb sighed, sinking in a seat across from Dacey to accept a goblet of wine from Smalljon who chuckled as he gave another goblet to Dacey.

"You could rule from elsewhere, Robb. The Targaryens built that city. It doesn't mean you have to stay there. You could build your own capital. A wolf's capital." Dacey grinned with a wink to her King who nodded and murmured somewhat at the idea.

"But where could I even do that? It would need to be a grand castle, a great city. An ideal point in the Kingdoms tha-…why are you smiling at me like that?" Robb said to Smalljon who was indeed giving Robb a wide smirk.

"You really haven't thought of it yet? Casterly Rock, my friend!" Smalljon laughed, settling on the chaise between his two friends with his own goblet of wine that was much fuller than the goblets he had given them.

"I would sooner rule from the ruins of Harrenhal than Casterly Rock." Robb said with derision before raising his goblet to his lips at the same time as Dacey did. The two locked eyes before having the same thought.

"Harrenhal!" they said in unison, before laughing together.

"What?" Smalljon asked, having just popped a grape in his mouth.

"Gods, do you ever stop eating?" Dacey asked him with a shake of her head.

"Harrenhal, Jon. That castle has five towers that are too big for it and ideal land that could be built upon around it. Lady Whent is dead…Harrenhal is under the dominion of the crown. The towers could be brought down and the stone used to renovate the keep and build new curtain walls and build two or three new towers. Hell, there's enough stone…perhaps I shall look into it when I am back in King's Landing." Robb said thoughtfully as he brought his goblet to his lips.

"Oh listen to him…so regal." Smalljon said, placing a hand over his heart.

"Shut your face, Umber before I decide to act like a Targaryen and have you gelded." Robb japed causing Dacey to laugh as Smalljon lowered his goblet to frown at Robb.

"Now, now…"

Smalljon was cut off by a knock at the door, the Blackfish entered and looked slightly out of breath.

"Your Grace. Word from Riverrun. Your mother's own seal." Robb rose at once to take the scroll from Brynden Tully. He saw that it was unread and quickly broke his mother's seal to read the letter.

His first reading left him confused, but after another moment he lowered the letter with a relieved smile upon his face.

"Good news at last!" Robb declared with a half-laugh, causing his comrades to lean forward in their seats curiously.

"Your Grace?" Dacey asked curiously, causing Robb to turn to her beaming.

"My sister Arya lives. She was brought to Riverrun by a group of vigilante outlaws led by Lord Beric Dondarrion and Thoros of Myr. They also have King Robert's oldest surviving bastard son. Thank the Gods…Arya is safe with mother…" Robb shakily sank into his seat and pressed his face into his hands. He had found his sister, but lost his brothers. The joy was marred with great grief.

"Uncle Brynden, sit with us for a moment. I wish to ask you something." Robb said after a moment, moving on from what had happened rather quickly.

"An honor, Your Grace. Budge over boy. You Umbers are not so big as to take up so much space!" Smalljon blushed as he shuffled over to allow Brynden to sit down. Dacey chuckled into her goblet, earning a glare from Smalljon who reached for his goblet only to have it taken by Brynden.

"Fetch us wine, boy." Smalljon looked utterly distraught for a moment, looking from face to face before taking on an air of indignity and rising to get the jug of wine.

"Leave him alone, Uncle. He's a good man." Robb chuckled "What I wanted to ask you was of the Crossing. You are one of the most loyal men I have, a member of my own family. What would you say to finding a pretty bride amongst the Frey brood, siring an heir and taking the Crossing as your seat, per your suggestion. Your loyalties would be to Winterfell and Riverrun. You would do me a great service."

"Take Walder Frey's castle and marry his daughter?" Brynden asked with a laugh.

"Aye, aye…I could very much be persuaded to do that…" Brynden laughed, leaning back in the chair.

"Would I be able to name my son Blackfish, starting a new House?"

"Of course." Robb nodded "I would name you a Lord. Not a steward, but your oaths to me would be different than that of the other lords. Your oath and the oath of your House must be to rule the Crossing fairly. To allow safe passage to me and mine, and to exact a fair toll from travelers and merchants."

"I am no Frey. Fair terms indeed." Brynden grinned, raising his goblet to Robb.

* * *

The next day Brynden met with the daughters and granddaughters of House Frey while Robb organized the ambush of Roose Bolton with his Northern lords who would be in the vanguard with Robb upon their march into the Neck. Edmure had decided to join his uncle, and when the two Tully men joined Robb in the early afternoon, both were looking oddly pleased with themselves.

"Why are you so happy?" Robb asked Edmure curiously, looking from the scrolls he had received from King's Landing and Riverrun to his uncle.

"This little twit followed me around to look at all the Frey girls and snicker, but ended up talking to one for the entire morning."

"So if I am to understand this, Ser Brynden went to search for a bride, and instead you found one?"

"No! No, no no, no." Edmure denied with a vigorous shake of his head until he glanced to see Brynden staring at him.

"Well, yes. Her name is Roslin, half Rosby…and she is…truly a wonder, Robb. It is long past time, I have found a bride…and-."

"Gods…be silent, Uncle. Please. Ser Brynden, did _you_ find a bride, as was the _purpose_ of this morning?" Robb asked, leaning back to sit in his chair and toss his quill onto the desk before him.

"Aye, actually. I did. I did not think I had, but when I was scoffing at this fool, I met a certain Lady Tyta who was also scoffing at his intended, Lady Roslin. A maid of thirty and quite a beauty if I may say so…" Brynden chuckled before clearing his throat as Robb furrowed his brow at him.

"Apologies, Your Grace…"

"Is she truly a maid?" Robb asked curiously, causing Brynden to shrug "Maid enough for me, Your Grace. She is the only one of the Freys who could speak to me without wanting to stab me. I do not want a bride who hates me."

"Nor I. Roslin is sweet, Your Grace. I beg your leave to sweat an oath of betr-.."

"Gods, Uncle Edmure. Yes, fine. Bring her to me, and I shall give you my leave. Ser Brynden, as long as you are happy, my lord. Then I bestow upon you this decree. A mark of lordship upon your marriage to a daughter of Lord Walder Frey. Your sigil as a black fish upon a grey field, and your name House Blackfish will be similarly recognized as a vassal of the Iron Throne." Robb said, handing Brynden a sealed scroll with a smile.

"Gods, you act quick, don't you, Your Grace?" Brynden chuckled.

"Name a castellan soon. The army is falling into rank and we will steal a night's march on Lord Bolton. Uncle Edmure, bring me your intended and I will give you my leave." Robb dismissed the Tully men, returning to his scrolls and his plans for the ambush.

* * *

Edmure's bride Roslin had been a small, pretty girl with delicate skin that was incredibly white, and seemed incredibly shy and taken with Edmure. Robb could only try to hide his smile as he gave his consent to the match.

Tyta Frey on the other hand was a tall, strapping woman with jet black hair. Tyta's beauty was in her confidence, and from what Brynden told Robb, Tyta knew her way around a spear and mace. What Robb saw between Tyta and Brynden was sweet in a way…but it was also somewhat disconcerting for Robb to see the lust with which Tyta and Brynden looked at each other.

Brynden and Edmure both swore oaths of betrothal to their intended Frey brides that night before they joined Robb on the march North.

The weather had mercifully eased as the swamps and bogs became more prevalent on their march through the Neck along the causeway. The crannogmen, led by Lord Howland Reed met them a league away from being exposed to Moat Cailin, where the great army took camp for the night.

"What news do you have for us, Lord Howland?" Robb asked as his commanders sat for council that night in Robb's grey tent.

"Good news, Your Grace. Ser Rodrik Cassel raised a small host and has been bleeding the Ironborn from the North of the castle for weeks nows. Their numbers have dwindled. Our own arrows and tactics have rendered them innert with sickness and lack of supplies. Balon Greyjoy is rumored to have died, Your Grace. And Victarion Greyjoy attempted to leave the Moat but we feathered his troops with poisoned arrows and have contaminated their water, they fell back with all haste when Ser Rodrik arrived to supplement our force."

"Excellent." Robb said, clapping his hand together once with joy.

"Victarion is commander of the Iron Fleet, and if Balon is dead that will cause a power struggle on the Iron Islands that we must take advantage of as soon as the North is ours again." Robb said, taking his seat at the had of the war council, a goblet of water in his hand.

"Upon taking the Moat, I want the army divided to cleanse the North. The Watermans, the Slates and the Flint's Finger Flints will take twelve-thousand men, including all their own bannermen to reclaim Flint's Finger, Blackpool and Greypool, as well as the keeps and castles of their bannermen. The Glovers, the Dustins, the Ryswells and the Tallharts will command a force of thirty-two-thousand strong to march along the west to reclaim the Rills, Barrowton, Torrhen's Square, and Deepwood Motte along with the keeps of _their_ bannermen. I myself will lead the Forresters, the Whitehills, the Cerwyns and forty-two thousand men for Winterfell, Ironrath, Castle Cerwyn and Highpoint. The last force of Umbers, Manderlys, Hornwoods and the Widow's Watch Flints will of course march on the east for Last Hearth, White Harbor, Hornwood and Widow's Watch. I want the Northmen to return home once their castles are secured. Those wishing to accompany me on the final leg of this war are welcome to. The remaining southern force after the North is taken back will march to the Shadow Tower to regroup with the main host and the fleet, where we will then sail to the Iron Islands, destroy their fleet and raze Pyke to the ground. Is everyone clear?"

"Aye, Your Grace. But what of the Dreadfort?" The Greatjon rumbled earning nods from his fellow Northmen.

"A matter for after the battle, Lord Umber. But the castle and lands will fall under Winterfell's domain until the issue is handled. For tonight I urge you all to rest well, my lords." Robb stood, dismissing the lords en masse. Leaving him alone with his thoughts once more.

As the night wore on, he sat before the fire in his tent, watching the embers burn low, before a realization hit him. He rose quickly, moving to the flap in his tent and asking his guard to fetch the fastest messenger they had in their army. When the very man arrived, Robb detailed what the messenger was to do. A message to Highgarden and to his betrothed.

"Ride with all haste, and bring my promise to return to my betrothed."

"At once, Your Grace." The messenger bowed deeply, before turning to leave Robb's tent quickly. Robb himself sighed, falling to sit in his chair once more. He was weary from war and death, and all he truly wished for was to return to Margaery and sire a new generation of Starks.

* * *

Lord Roose Bolton was asleep, lying perfectly still as leeches stuck to his face and body. His deathly white hands were clasped before his chest as he appeared to be, by most accounts, dead.

However his cold, cruel eyes flicked open instantly when the flap of his tent was pushed aside and his squire stuck his head in urgently.

"Lord Bolton…we are being attacked in the night!"

"Ironborn?!" Roose, even when shouting, was not loud. He rose from his cot to wrench at the bloodsuckers on his face, their marks shining red in the darkness as Roose pulled them off hurriedly.

"No, my lord. They are flying the banners of Robb Stark."

"What?! Robb…Gods…be DAMNED!" Roose did get loud at that point, screaming with all fury before commanding his squire to help him with his armor and sword.

When Roose emerged out into the night, he saw that Dustin men had laid down their arms and instantly surrended to Robb Stark while the Ryswells were following suit having lost half of their men already to the ambush. It was only Bolton's men who continued to fight, but Roose knew the battle was lost. Robb Stark had discovered his arrangement, and was not so compassionate as his father as to let Roose live. The Lord of the Dreadfort had only one option ahead of him. To die while taking Robb Stark out of this world as well.

Roose mounted his horse and rode forth to the vanguard of his former allies. The Young Wolf was easy enough to spot from afar, ever surrounded by standard bearers and his horde of young Northmen around him. Roose roared a wordless battlecry as he slashed at Eddard Karstark, sending the boy to his death while he rode forth. Daryn Hornwood lost two fingers when Bolton slammed his sword down on Daryn's hand, and finally Roose saw Robb.

"Roose Bolton! I name you traitor and turncloak and do sentence you to death!" Robb called, urging his horse forward with his sword in hand.

"You first!" Roose called, moving forward to have his sword clash with Robb's repeatedly. Roose used his other hand to draw caltrops that he threw beneath Robb's horse, sending the Young Wolf tumbling to the ground as his horse neighed in pain. Robb put the poor creature out of its misery, before turning on to Roose who had joined Robb on the ground. Bolton was a skilled fighter, using dirty tactics well to his advantage as he knocked Robb into the dirt and moved to make an almight hack that would have beheaded the Young Wolf, had Robb not rolled out of the way in time to throw his legs up and kick Roose off balance. Robb and Roose then rose to meet each other in unarmed combat. Roose's well trained fist connected with Robb several times, before the quicker and stronger Robb managed to swing two solid jabs and an almighty left hook that rocked Roose off his feet once more. Robb sent a solid kick into Roose's gut before diving atop the man to viciously beat his traitorous vassal without mercy. Robb's gauntleted fists did much damage to Roose's face, Robb was so angry, so caught in his aggression that he did not see Roose's dagger until it was too late. Roose drove it blindly into Robb's chest causing the Young Wolf to shout out before grabbing Roose's head with both hands and smashing it back against the ground, knocking the former Lord of the Dreadfort out. Robb cried out in pain as he fell off Roose onto his back, clutching at his chest around the dagger that was quickly being seeped with blood.

Dacey and Smalljon who had been closest to Robb screamed, before killing their Bolton foes to rush to Robb's side.

"I'm fine! I'm fin-ARGH! MAESTER NOW!" Robb roared, as he tried to tug the dagger out of his right breast, where it had only just embedded itself into his flesh, but had thankfully not mortally wounded the Young Wolf.

* * *

Robb was placed in a wheelhouse behind the rearguard and tended to by a Maester as the United Army fell under the leadership of Robb's trusted generals composed of; the Greatjon Umber, his son Smalljon, Dacey Mormont, Brynden 'The Blackfish' Tully, Edmure Tully, Ser Garlan Tyrell, Lord Mathis Rowan, Lord Bryce Caron, Lord Jason Mallister and Lord Rickard Karstark.

The crannogmen, using their knowledge of the bogs and the swamps, had placed bowmen on the western side of the castle, while Ser Rodrik Cassel held 2000 men on the northern side.

"Victarion Greyjoy, Invader of the North!" Greatjon Umber's voice carried across the marshes to the battlements where two swaying Ironborn manned the Drunkard's Tower of Moat Cailin.

"You are surrounded, outnumbered, and dying from disease and hunger. Surrender now and face the justice of Robb of the House Stark, First of His Name and the One True King of Westeros. Fail to do so and be destroyed without mercy! You have till the sun reaches its midpoint to consider!"

"Are we really going to wait?" Lord Rickard Karstark asked his friend as the Greatjon returned to the vanguard where the generals were assembled.

"HA! Gods, no. Sound the horn, prepare the attack." The Greatjon said cheerfully, turning back to face Moat Cailin with his sword drawn.

A warhorn sounded from somewhere near the vanguard, and with that the Battle of Moat Cailin began. Hundreds, maybe thousands of bowmen surrounded the Moat and began firing from all angles, raining flaming arrows and poison-tipped arrows down on the Ironborn while a well organized contingent of men marched forward with their shields above their heads for the gates of the Moat. Arrows began to rain down from two of the towers of the Moat, taking only a few lives of the beseiegers beneath their shields before they managed to begin battering the gates.

The gates were old and rusted, and the bowmen weak and unsupplied. Within an hour, the gates were broken down and the Moat was being surged by only a few hundred men to kill the Greyjoys. Victarion Greyjoy was found dead with his own men's axe buried deeply in his skull, his men having intended to mutiny before the Greatjon ordered the attack.

"This is one of the best wars I've ever fought in!" The Greatjon thundered as the bodies of the Greyjoys were cleared from the Moat, and the ruins were cleaned up and garrisoned by Northmen once more.

"How can you celebrate when our King is injured?" Ser Garlan demanded of the Greatjon as the council sat down the day after the battle.

"Our King will live. He is a Stark, and they have endured for a thousand years. King Robb is the finest Stark we have seen since his dear father. Ned would have made a fine King, and Robb will do just as well, if not better. The Maester assures us that the King will be healed by the time his army marches on Winterfell. Until then, his host that was to march under his command will be commanded by the Blackfish. The King will stay in the wheelhouse to rest until he is strong enough to ride again."

* * *

 **Author's Note:** Biggest chapter of the story! The retaking of Moat Cailin and of course Walder Frey is dead, yaaay.

I am really amazed at how many views I've gotten on this story, and I'd like to personally thank **_El Chacal, DarylDixon'sLover_** and ** _Arianna La Fay_** for their continuous and supportive reviews of this. Its a very wonderful confidence booster.

I've also received a question which I wanted to clear up a few things about.

I know that Natalie Dormer is Margaery on the show and she is of course a wonderful Margaery, but for my story, I have pictured a few characters differently.

Robb Stark is still Richard Madden of course. But I see Miranda Kerr or Leighton Meester as Margaery Tyrell, depending on who you prefer. And I also see Jaimie Alexander as Dacey Mormont and Clive Standen as Smalljon Umber.

Hope that clears things up :)


	23. Chapter 23

Along the western coast of the North the Lords of Flint's Finger, Blackpool, Greypool, Torrhen's Square, Deepwood Motte, Barrow Hall and the Rills reclaimed their homes and the homes of their bannermen from the lightly manned Ironborn who had dared to besiege the Northern castles. The Flints and the Glovers were even both able to launch two different naval attacks that sent dozens of Greyjoy ships to the bottom of the sea, thanks in large to a guerrilla naval fleet of fishing sloops commanded by Alysanne Mormont, the second daughter of Lady Maege who was known as the 'She-Bear'.

Alysanne had seven ships under her command that looked to all eyes as normal, poor, rickety fishing sloops from Bear Island, but had actually been filled with warriors from the Bay of Ice and the western coast who had wished to fight against the Ironborn. When the She-Bear learned that Robb Stark had marched the strongest army the North had _ever_ seen back to reclaim his country, Alysanne had acted quickly, sailing four ships to Deepwood Motte and sending three more to Flint's Fingers where they assisted with the attack in the absence of the Royal Fleet, which was still fighting its was past the Westerlands despite having set sail before the army had even left King's Landing for Lannisport.

Dagmer Cleftjaw, an old Ironborn warrior loyal to Balon Greyjoy, and who had been rumored to have served Theon Greyjoy in his Capture of Winterfell was caught in Torrhen's Square by the overwhelming force of men commanded by the Tallharts, who executed and beheaded the once-most-feared Ironborn warrior unceremoniously after the castle and township had been recaptured and Dagmer's token force of Ironborn had been wiped out like Victarion's force in Moat Cailin. Dagmer's body was thrown into a box and joined the boxed bodies of his men on one of the small, surviving sloops of the Greyjoy ships that was pushed off from the Northern coast and set alight in a mass funeral. Dagmer's head was stuck on a pike by Ser Helman Tallhart and left to rot as a message to anyone who would dare besiege Torrhen's Square again. Ser Helman left his entire force of Tallhart men behind to fortify the castle and harvest the lands for the winter, leaving his brother Leobald as Castellan of Torrhen's Square while he marched out alone with the southeners at his back.

At Deepwood Motte, the Glovers faced a harder time due to the fierce skill and stubbornness of Balon Greyjoy's own daughter, Asha, and the fierce force of Ironborn she commanded. Alysanne Mormont's efforts on the shore meant that the Ironborn had no place to escape as the Glovers and a fraction of Robb Stark's southern army surrounded them. Tragically, in the chaos, Asha met Galbart Glover in single combat outside the walls of his own castle, where the Princess of the Ironborn fought Galbart for a while before she caught him in the face with a dirty jerk of her armored elbow. Before Galbart could have regained his senses, Asha had driven her sword through his belly. The death of his brother before his own eyes drove Robett Glover into a fury. Hacking and slashing his way through Asha's warriors, the new Master of Deepwood Motte engaged his brother's killer over his fallen body.

Asha's force had been fierce, but they were small. And though they had taken many lives from the Glover force, they were soon overwhelmed whilst Asha and Robett tirelessly fought amongst their fallen bretheren.

"Was he your brother?" Asha panted, after parrying a devastating blow from Robett's longsword.

"His name was Galbart Glover." Robett growled before charging forward to bring his sword down on Asha's block repeatedly, driving the Greyjoy woman back against the curtain walls of Deepwood Motte.

"And you will pay for his death." Robett insisted, bringing his sword charging from the left with an almighty swing that sent Asha's sword clattering away. Robett placed his sword at Asha's neck, wanting more than anything to avenge his brother, but knowing that if he killed Asha Greyjoy, he would face King Robb's wrath. With an enraged wordless bellow into Asha's face, Robett brough the pommel of his sword to her temple, causing Asha to crumple to the ground in unconsciousness before Robett rushed to Galbart's body.

The bells of Deepwood Motte tolled as House Glover reclaimed their home and mourned for the death of their lord. Robett elected to name his wife in command of Deepwood Motte along with the majority of House Glover's men who were tasked to set about preparing for the winter in earnest. Robett himself joined Ser Helman Tallhart to lead the remaining soldiers of the army to the Shadow Tower per King Robb's orders.

* * *

As the west was retaken, the Umbers, Karstarks, Manderlys, Hornwoods, and Widow's Watch Flints moved through the eastern coast of the North without facing any opposition from the Iron Islands. What they did find was outlaws, brigands and thieves running amok in their lands and through the villages and settlements. A particularly vicious group of criminals had turned out to be Bolton men that were not flying any banners. The Greatjon had managed to beat a confession out of one of them who confessed that they were men-at-arms loyal to Roose Bolton, charged with guarding and keeping an eye on Roose's bastard son Ramsay.

"The Bastard's Boys. I have heard of them." Daryn Hornwood said darkly as he and a handful of the other lords joined Lord Umber in questioning the men. They were standing in a damp enclosure of the forest, their army camped not far behind them.

"Aye? And what have you heard?" Lord Rickard Karstark asked Daryn, who shook his head, not wanting to say. After Daryn's father had been killed at the Whispering Wood by Jaime Lannister, Daryn had become Lord of Hornwood. Word had reached the camps that Lady Donella had perished as well, but Daryn had been unable to confirm the reports yet.

"That Bolton's bastard raped and killed my mother. So say the whores that have followed the camp since we started North. If it is true, then Bolton's bastard must also die."

"Oi. Where is the bastard?" The Greatjon asked, kicking the Bolton man on the ground roughly.

"Dr-d-dreadfort…" the man wheezed as he curled into a ball from the pain.

"Thank you." The Greatjon said cheerily before walking away to nod at Daryn Hornwood, who walked forward with his sword in hand to try and attack the Bolton man, only for the man to push Daryn's sword aside and tackle the Lord of Hornwood to the dirt and began to viciously attack him. It was Smalljon Umber's bow and arrow that saved Daryn from losing an eye.

"Train your other hand, Daryn." Smalljon said simply, walking over to offer his friend a hand. Daryn had lost two fingers on his right hand to Roose Bolton and was now struggling to hold a sword.

"I'm fine." Daryn said gruffly, pushing past Smalljon to dust himself off.

From there, the army split off with the Manderly men returning to White Harbor, the Hornwoods under Daryn going home to learn what state their lands were in, and the Flints following suit. The Umbers, the Karstarks and the southern soldiers themselves marched on to the Dreadfort, which was well-garrisoned and well-manned by the Bolton Bastard.

"I will never bend my knee to Robb Stark!" he had called over his walls, before arrows had rained down on the army. The Karstarks and Umbers were by now well versed in besieging a castle, and the Dreadfort was no different. In the dark of the night on the third day of the siege, Smalljon Umber, his brothers Harlow, Donnel and Harrion Karstark, donned the seized uniforms and surcoats of fallen Bolton soldiers. Using a poorly lit night to their advantage, they crossed the moat with little difficulty before scaling one of the lightly defended high-walls of the Dreadfort as quickly as they could. The Umbers and the Karstarks lived in rough Northern territory, and such physical activity was no stranger to them, but even still as they hauled themselves on the wall walk, they were out of breath and aching in every muscle.

"Quickly." Smalljon stated, rising up after taking a deep inhale. He had been at the Dreadfort once, when his friend Domeric Bolton had lived. Domeric had been everything his father was not, and Smalljon still mourned his loss to this day. He was amongst the many voices who blamed Ramsay Snow for the death, and today he would get justice.

Acting as naturally as they could, the small group began to silently assassinate Bolton guards on the walk. It was not the most honorable thing to do, but King Robb had made his intent clear; the Dreadfort and House Bolton needed to end.

The four men worked their way to the gate, leaving a trail of bodies in their wake, sure to be caught by someone soon, and sure enough when Smalljon finally cut at the thick ropes and chains that kept the drawbridge up and the portcullis down.

The alarm was raised and the four men were alone against a full garrison of Bolton soldiers who began to shout and charge at them as their army crossed the drawbridge as quickly as possible.

Donnel Umber, third son of the Greatjon was grinning, looking behind him to see his father's men charging through the portcullis, when Ramsay Snow fired an arrow that pierced Donnel's throat.

Smalljon Umber and Harlow Umber roared in anguish as they fought the Boltons off. The Greatjon himself had been at the fore when he saw Donnel die. His grief was immeasurabl, his rage terrifying to even his own allies as the giant of a man cleared a bloody and ruthless path through the Bolton garrison to come face to face with Ramsay Snow.

"Fuckin' Umbers." Ramsay grinned, shaking his head as he drew his sword and walked forward to engage the Greatjon, who snarled through his nostrils and tightened his grip on his sword. With a bellow that caused some of the fighting men to jump, the Greatjon charged forward, catching Ramsay's sword with the gauntlet that covered his already damaged left hand whilst simultaneously driving his sword through Ramsay Snow's heart and twisting his wrist. The Greatjon did not care about the pain in his left hand, not about the sword that had taken his remaining fingers and most of his palm. All he cared about was watching the man who killed his son die at his own hands. Ramsay's cold eyes bulged out of his head, grasping at the Greatjon's sword, and rasping wordless sounds, before Lord Umber slowly and painfully withdrew his sword from the bastard's body. Ramsay struggled to take a breath, a trail of blood leaking down his lips before he fell backward, dead.

A pool of blood quickly forming beneath him.

The Greatjon's grief was such that he refused to remain in the Dreadfort any longer, taking his sons and men home to Last Hearth and leaving Lord Rickard to settle the castle. Harrion Karstark was left as Castellan with two-thousand of King Robb's southern swords to dismantle the Bolton seat and bring peace to the lands, while Lord Rickard returned to Karhold, with the remains of his own younger sons Torrhen and Eddard, who had died over the course of the war.

* * *

The Blackfish, Dacey Mormont and Ser Garlan Tyrell commanded King Robb's host in the central North, sweeping through the castles of and sworn to: Ironrath, Castle Cerwyn, Highpoint and the smaller castles that swore their allegiance directly to Winterfell. Besides the seat of House Stark, none of the other castles had faced siege from the Ironborn due to their distance from the sea, meaning that the host faced a much quicker march to their final destination than the other armies did.

Robb, who had been wounded by Roose Bolton's dagger, had been forced to remain in a litter in the rearguard being tended to by a maester for the majority of the march. But as they approached Winterfell a fortnight after his injury, he refused to remain in the litter any longer. Donning his armor had caused some minor stiffness in his chest, but he faced no other issue as he rode forth from the rearguard to cheers and applause from the soldiers, who were overjoyed to see their King returned to them. Robb had become a living legend over the space of a few months, the Young Wolf who had assembled the greatest army Westeros had ever seen to end the most terrible war that it had ever seen. He'd brought down the corrupt and inbred dynasty of the Lannisters, he was a good and just leader to his people, and in battle had been undefeated. He would be remembered for centuries to come as a conqueror akin to Aegon the First, but a ruler akin to Jaehaerys the Old King; wise and just.

"Your Grace…what are you doing?" Brynden asked his great-nephew sternly, only to have Robb return his challenging gaze.

"Winterfell is _my_ castle, and Theon went to Balon on my orders. This ends now. Set the siege lines one hundred yards from the castle, I want as little damage done to Winterfell as possible. Make that clear to all of our men."

"Of course, Your Grace." Ser Garlan said, bowing his head, tugging on his horse's reigns to ride back to the commanders of the army as a pale Robb Stark moved beside Brynden Tully.

"You cannot fight." Brynden pointed out after a moment, causing Dacey Mormont, who rode beside the two men, to give her friend a worried look.

"I cannot lift _Ice_. It does not mean I cannot fight. I will use my longsword. But if I will be honest, I do not think there will be a fight once the Ironborn hear my terms. I know Theon well. He will hold the castle till the bitter end, but he is easily annoyed. Keep him awake." Robb said, a grim smile on his face as Winterfell came into view. The sight of the kraken flying on his walls instead of the direwolf maddened Robb, his brow furrowed as he dug his heels into his horse, urging it to go forward.

* * *

 _ **Author's Note: So I just wanted to hurry things along in the North a bit to get to the good stuff which is Stark justice, because yes this is a revenge fic, and also I want to get to Margaery and Robb back together.**_


	24. Chapter 24

Winterfell was a grand and ancient castle, that much could not be disputed by even the Lannisters. The granite walls of the castle had always been a safe, impenetrable haven to those who had grown up behind them. Like Robb Stark.

And like Theon Greyjoy, who had served as Ned Stark's squire for nine years.

Ned Stark, whose chambers Theon Greyjoy now sat in, as though he were Lord of Winterfell. Theon had just placed a log onto the large fire that Ned Stark had rarely used. He had always enjoyed the cold.

Theon however shivered. He had dark circles around his glazed eyes, his hair was greasy and wild and it looked as though he was on the knife's edge of sanity. A war horn echoed annoyingly before the walls of the castle repeatedly. Taking breaks short enough to convince Theon it had stopped before another loud blast of the horn echoed over the castle.

"I _will_ kill that man," he promised "I don't care how many arrows they feather me with, how many spears they run through me, I don't care if it's Robb Stark himself doing it, I will kill that horn-blowing cunt before I fall." Theon swore, staring into the roaring fire as Maester Luwin, the trusted counselor to Ned Stark and his family sighed as he walked forward to stand behind Theon's chair.

"They want you to know you're surrounded." Luwin stated

"I know I'm surrounded. I know that because I stood on the battlements and saw Robb Stark's huge fuckin' army was surrounding me."

"They don't want you to sleep. They want to sap your spirit before you-."

"Thank YOU, wise bald man. Thank you for explaining siege tactics to me. Just as you explained them to Robb Stark who is outside my fuckin' walls." Theon snapped, causing Luwin to sigh again.

"Theon. These are his walls. You know that." Luwin said as yet another blast of the horn caused Theon to jerk his neck violently.

"Any word from my father?" Theon asked after a long moment had passed, marred only by another blast of the war horn.

"No." Luwin stated bluntly, pacing behind Theon's chair to face the desk where his Lord Eddard had often sat brooding over his Northern kingdom and its affairs. A wise man, a good man. Luwin mourned him greatly.

"Send more ravens." Theon growled, clutching the arms of the chair he sat on as the horn sounded yet again.

"You killed all the ravens." Luwin retorted, causing Theon to fall into a brooding silence for a short time.

"The first time I saw Winterfe-…" Theon began, only to be cut off by the horn once more. Theon glared pure poison out the window before rolling his neck and continuing "The first time I saw Winterfell…it looked like something that had been here for thousands of years, and would be here for thousands of years after I was dead. I saw it and I thought ' _of course, Ned Stark crushed our rebellion and killed my brothers.'_ We never stood a chance against a man who lived here." Theon laughed bitterly

" _Lord_ Stark went out of his way to make it your home." Luwin corrected sternly, only earning an emotional snap from Theon.

"Yes, my captors were _so_ very kind to me! You _love_ reminding me of that. Everyone in this frozen pile of shit has always _loved_ reminding me of that." Theon said, his eyes welling up slightly as Luwin stood behind him.

"Know what its like to be told how _lucky_ you are to be someone's prisoner? To be told how _much_ you owe _them_? And then to go back home to your _real_ father…-." Theon by now had a tear falling down his face and sniffing through his emotion. He was interrupted by the horn, causing him to leap off Ned Stark's chair and begin screaming.

" _I will kill that man!_ I swear to the Drowned God, the Old Gods, the New Gods, to EVERY FUCKING GOD IN EVERY FUCKING HEAVEN THAT I WILL KILL THAT MAN!" Theon screamed, causing Luwin to sigh and roll his eyes at the boy's dramatics.

"Theon, listen to me. I serve Winterfell, and now Winterfell is yours. I am bound by oath to serve you." Luwin said heavily, almost as though he was regretting the words as he spoke them.

"And what's your counsel, trust friend?" Theon turned, asking Luwin with weary sarcasm.

"Run," Luwin said simply "Robb has led an army nearly forty-thousand swords outside the walls. You have twenty men. _Twenty_. You can't win. Wait for nightfall and run."

"There's nowhere to run. I'd never make it back to the Iron Islands. Robb's entire army is combing the North. And even if I did, even if by some miracle I slipped through the lines and made it home…I'd be a coward; the Greyjoy who ran. The shame of the family." Theon said forlornly, sinking back into Ned's chair.

"Don't go home. Join the Night's Watch. Once a man has taken the black, he's beyond reach of the law. All his past crimes are forgiven. Even Robb could not reach you there." Luwin said, feeling a small sense of compassion for the foolish Greyjoy boy who slowly looked up at Luwin's words.

"I won't make it to the Wall. I won't make it ten feet past the Winterfell gates." Theon said as Luwin moved to hold the back of Ned's chair upon which Theon sat.

"There are ways. Hidden passageways, built so the lords of Winterfell could escape. The road will be dangerous, but with a little luck..." Luwin trailed off, letting Theon think on the matter "The Night's Watch is an ancient, honorable order. You'll have opportunities there." Luwin encouraged, wishing for a quicker end to this farce. Bran and Rickon were hidden in the crypts of Winterfell, along with Jojen and Meera Reed. Luwin was the only one to know of this, besides Osha, the wildling woman who guarded them. Luwin could only imagine what was going through the mind of his new Lord…his _King_ , Robb and his Lady Catelyn at the notion that Bran and Rickon were dead.

"The opportunity for Jon Snow to cut my throat in my sleep!" Theon snapped, yet again, rising from the chair to face Luwin before angrily crossing to the window.

"The opportunity to make amends for what you've done." Luwin stressed, looking at the boy who walked back towards Luwin.

"I've done a lot, haven't I? Things I never imagined myself doing…" Theon said with a noted tone of sadness. Luwin sighed.

"I've known you many years, Theon Greyjoy. You're not the man you're pretending to be." he put a comforting hand on Theon's shoulder. "Not yet."

"You may be right. But I've gone too far to pretend to be anything else." Theon said, his words in despair. He sighed before straightening his back.

"Stygg! Wex!" Theon called, looking at Luwin with a sudden cold and detached gaze. Two of Theon's Ironborn appeared in the chambers, looking very disgruntled at having to serve Theon Greyjoy.

"Take the Maester to a cell and lock him there. He will be of no use during the battle. Only after." Theon said grimly, earning a shake of the head from Luwin, who did not realize that Theon was saving him from any potential wrath of the Ironborn.

"Good luck, Theon." Luwin said dejectedly.

"I don't need luck." Theon insisted, turning his back as Luwin was roughly led out of the chambers and towards the dungeon of Winterfell.

"Oi, Maester. Is Robb Stark the kinda greenlander to go back on his word?" one of the Ironborn soldiers asked Luwin as they locked him in a cell that already held the castle servants loyal to the Starks.

"Robb Stark is his father's son. Honor is what matters most to him." Luwin declared, unaware of the changes his King had gone through.

"Aye…" the Ironborn muttered to himself, exchanging a meaningful glance with his friend before leaving the Stark servants in the dark, damp dungeons.

* * *

The next morning dawned bright with no hint of the coming winter except for the clouds of mist that rose up before Theon's face as he breathed. The horn that he so detested echoed once more as Theon climbed up onto a platform in the main courtyard of Winterfell to address his twenty Ironborn.

"You hear that?" he asked them, assembling the rough group of men towards him. "That's the mating call of the Northmen. They want to fuck us! Well, I haven't had a good fuck in weeks, I'm ready for one!" Theon said to the laughs of his men.

"They say that every Ironborn man is worth a dozen from the mainland." Theon said, pacing the length of the platform. "You think they're right?"

"Aye." The Ironborn chorused, some of them raising their weapons.

"We _die_ today, brothers! We die bleeding from a hundred wounds, with arrows in our necks and spears in our guts! But our war cries will echo through eternity. They will sing about the Battle of Winterfell until the Iron Islands have slipped beneath the waves. Every man, woman, and child will know who we were and how long we stood! Aggar and Gelmarr! Wex and Urzen! Stygg and Black Lorren! Ironborn warriors will cry out our names as they leap onto the shores of Seagard and Faircastle!" Theon declared passionately, appearing to inspire the men who had never wanted to willingly follow him.

 **"** Aye!" his men chorused again.

"Mothers will name their sons for us!" Theon continued, his voice growing hoarse from his nonsense screaming.

 **"** Aye!" the men chorused again, by now seemingly fully driven by Theon's words.

"Girls will think of us with their lovers inside them!" Theon's eyes were wild, spittle flying from his lips as he screamed.

 **"** Aye!" another fateful echo of that war horn, caused Theon to whip around before turning back to the man while jabbing his finger towards the walls.

"And whoever kills that _fucking_ horn-blower will stand in bronze above the shores of Pyke!"

 **"** Aye!" the men, were by now growing weary of the charade, waiting for their moment to strike.

"What is dead may never die!" Theon screamed, thumping his chest with pride.

 **"** What is dead may never die!" the Ironborn echoed as Theon's first mate appeared from behind him to smash the back of his spear across Theon's head, sending the Heir to the Iron Islands sprawling to the ground unconscious.

* * *

Robb could vaguely hear Theon's voice echo across the walls and it incensed him that Theon Turncloak was still walking free in Winterfell. Mounted on his horse, Robb and his generals were in the center of the well-organized army beseiging his castle.

"Are we sure they will accept these terms?" Dacey asked curiously, as the army listened to Theon's screaming.

"The rest of them will be granted safe passage home as long as they surrender Theon. None of them know that I intend to sail to the Iron Islands after this. None of them have to know till they see our sails on their shores." Robb said calmly, though his generals knew that he was growing angry and impatient the longer he was forced to stay outside the walls of his own castle. The siege had lasted three days so far, and on the first night Robb had sent his offer of clemency to the other Ironborn through a message attached to an arrow. By chance, Black Loren had found the letter and brought the terms to his fellow Ironborn without Theon's knowledge.

"Sly." Brynden chuckled, before the gates of Winterfell opened and every man and woman tensed for what was to come.

Two rows of Ironborn marched pathetically out of the castle with a hooded and shackled figure lying limply across a mule that they marched in front of them. They all flew white peace banners, causing Robb to fight a smirk as he urged his horse forward alongside Brynden, Garlan, Dacey and Edmure.

"We yield Winterfell and accept your offer. Here before you is Theon Turncloak!" Black Loren growled, eyeing Robb with distaste before wrenching the hood off Theon's stirring and dazed form.

"An accurate moniker. Very well. Ser Edmure, send these men back to those shit stained rocks they call home. Ser Garlan have the forces of House Stark march into the castle first and foremost. The rest will hold the lines until I have settled my castle. Dacey. Take the traitor to the dungeons along with Roose Bolton and Petyr Baelish. I wish to execute them all in the morrow." Robb said, glaring pure hatred at the man he once considered his best friend, who looked up at Robb in complete shame, fear and embarassment.

"Robb-..I-..I'm sor-."

"Silence, traitor! Theon Greyjoy, on the charges of high treason, and for the murder of my brothers', Brandon and Rickon Stark, I sentence you to death by execution. Take him away!" Robb oredered before Theon could say any more. Dacey herself took the rop tied to the mule and began to trot into the castle behind the columns of Stark soldiers that were, at long last, returning home.

Robb sat before Winterfell for a moment atop his horse, Ser Brynden Tully sat beside him, holding his reigns and looking at Robb with pride as Robb himself looked at Winterfell with tears in his eyes.

"Do you realize what you are?" Brynden asked after a while as the two men ventured into the castle alone.

"What?" Robb asked in confusion, looking to his great-uncle.

"You are one of the greatest men Westeros has ever seen. The Young Dragon conquered Dorne at 16, aye. But he lost all that work in a fornight when Dorne rebelled. You have…you have conquered the mainland and ended a war that threatened to destroy the realm. You are about to establish one of the finest dynasties in history. You're a great man, Robb Stark. And I am proud to have served you." The Blackfish was not a man for praise, so his words came as a high honor for Robb who bowed his head for a moment as a blush tinted his cheeks.

"I hope you mean that, because I wish for you to come to King's Landing to serve on my Small Council when we are done with the Iron Islands." Robb said as they trotted beneath the raised portcullis of Winterfell.

"Bah, I suppose I will have to. Not many men you could trust in that rat's nest." Brynden grumbled, silencing as he saw the look on Robb's face.

He was finally back in Winterfell. The King from the North had reclaimed his seat, his home. But everything was different. His father was dead. His brothers were de-…

"BRAN?! **_RICKON_**?!" Robb all but fell off his horse as he saw Dacey Mormont and the wilding Osha leading Hodor, Bran and Rickon out of the crypts and into the main courtyard of Winterfell. Robb sprinted to his brothers, Rickon ran excitedly into Robb's arms, hugging his oldest brother tightly as Robb moved to wrap his other arm around Bran who was nestled in Hodor's arms.

"Gods…Mother-…we all-…we though you were dead!" Robb shouted, completely at a loss for this stunning and wonderful development. It was then that Bran told Robb their tale of escape and return, of Osha's loyal service to them, and of Meera and Jojen Reed's companionship. Robb learned that the castle servants had been locked in the dungeon and Dacey had just freed them.

Maester Luwin soon joined the group in the courtyard, to Robb's great delight. Robb greeted Luwin like he would have greeted a beloved uncle.

"Take the boys back to their chambers and get them a hot supper. I want the southern army resupplied and rested. We will march for the Shadow Tower in three days time." Robb said, depositing Rickon to the ground as he beamed at Luwin, Brynden and his brothers.

"Maester. Send a raven to-…" Robb began, turning to Luwin as Hodor led the boys away, only for Luwin to cut Robb off with a shake off his head.

"Robb, all the ravens have been killed."

"Damn Theon…" Robb said furiously "Very well. A rider must be sent to House Long, they are only a few hours ride away and _must_ have ravens. Word must be sent to Riverrun and Highgarden at once. The boys are alive and Winterfell is once again ours. And I obviously need not ask you to see that the castle has ravens again as soon as possible?"

"Of course not. _Your Grace_." Luwin smiled, nodding at the boy whom he had taught and trained since Robb was a babe.

"Your Grace, Lord Howland Reed wishes a word with you at your earliest convenience." Ser Garlan Tyrell, who had just rode into the courtyard called as he dismounted his horse.

"Thank you, brother. I will see him in my chambers once I have washed." Robb sighed, clapping Garlan's shoulder before turning to once again admire Winterfell.

Arya was alive. Bran and Rickon were alive. The Gods had been good…all that they missed was their father. Ned Stark had been taken far too soon, and Robb would never fail to grieve his father every day for the rest of his life. Ned Stark's memory would govern the Seven Kingdoms for generations to come, Robb knew that much.

* * *

Author's Note: Winterfell is once again the seat of House Stark and those who betrayed the Starks will soon face justice :D

I might skip Robb's whole campaign on the Iron Islands and summarize it in a short chapter as I'm quite excited to get on to the ruling and governance of the Young Wolf. Do leave a review!


	25. Chapter 25

Robb walked through the halls of his home, running his fingers along the granite walls as he had done when he was a child, feeling the ancient ridges against the pads of fingers. Robb had taken a bath in his old chambers, had found some of his old clothes and was now making his way to his father's solar…which he supposed was now his solar. The thought troubled Robb, who frowned before putting on his 'king's face'.

"Lord Howland, it is good to see you. I thank you for commanding the bowmen and the scouts. You will be rewarded once I have returned to King's Landing." Robb said, walking past the smaller, older man, who bowed his head at Robb but looked up with a smile and a shake of his head.

"Thank you, Your Grace. But that is not why I have come to see you now." Lord Howland said, taking a seat as Robb did behind the desk.

"Oh? Then what can I help you with, my lord?" Robb asked curiously, clasping his hands on his desk and leaning forward to listen.

"Your Grace…the things I have to tell you…will not be easy for you to hear or believe, but I hope you do. Your father and I were the greatest of friends, do you know that?" Howland asked, rubbing his upper lip before leaning forward to speak.

"Aye. I do. He spoke highly of you as a bannerman, as a lord, and he told me of your adventure to Harrenhal where my aunt Lyanna saved you from the Freys. He also told me how you rode with him to save her, and was the only man to survive with him. But he said nothing more. Am I to learn what great secret my father was keeping?" Robb asked with a hint of amusement, before drumming his fingers on the desktop. The half-smile he wore dropped and he rose from his seat at what Howland said next.

"What?! What did you say?!" Robb demanded, causing Howland to lean back and raise his palms up in surrender.

"Your Grace, please. I am not lying, I am only here to tell you the truth. Your aunt was my greatest friend in this life, I loved Lyanna as much as Ned, Brandon or Benjen did. When she was taken, I raised the crannogmen to follow Ned without question. I was there at the Tower of Joy when your father and I lost our friends to the remaining Kingsguard. Your father…your father killed the Sword of the Morning. It was a gruesome and beautiful battle. Your father was an incredible swordsman, he never sought glory for it though. When we reached Lyanna…she had birthed the boy, and as young as she was…unattended by a Maester, the birth killed her. Rhaegar's treatment of her…killed her. He had swayed your aunt with notions of freedom and love, but all he sought was a strong woman to give him an heir of ice and fire. Lyanna learned of Rhaegar's death and she mourned, but she also knew her son would forever be in danger and she begged your father to take him. She made him promise on a bloody bed of blue roses, Jon Snow in her weak arms." Howland explained, taking Robb back to the scene. Robb could not believe what he was hearing, his half-brother was not his half-brother. He was his bastard cousin. A royal bastard. And his father had never besmirched his honor…Ned Stark had only ever kept a promise to his sister.

"Why did-…this…this cannot be true! Why did my father never tell my mother? She hated Jon. She chased him from Winterfell practically. She blamed him for everything. And he was only a boy needing a family. We were his family…" Robb shook his head, rising from the chair to fold his arms as he paced the length of the room.

"This is madness…Jon is half-Targaryen?"

"Aye, he is. But that is not…all…Robb. Its about your brother, Bran." Howland sighed.

"What about him?" Robb asked warily, prompting Howland to explain of his son Jojen's powers of the greensight, of how the Starks were perhaps gifted with the powers of the warg, and that Bran might be the most powerful among them.

"And what do you expect me to do with this knowledge? This…fairytale? Wargs and greensight, this is a song from my childhood, my lord!" Robb protested, placing his hands on his desk to hold Howland's gaze.

"Far from it, Your Grace. Speak to Bran yourself, but its true. The three-eyed-raven seeks him out, and he in turn must seek it out. He must go Beyond-the-Wall and find his destiny."

"Beyond-the-…now I know you're joking. A crippled boy in the Lands of Always Winter. A farce." Robb snorted, standing upright to see that Howland was not smiling, and was looking quite seriously at Robb.

"I cannot let him go. He is my heir. He must hold Winterfell in my absence. He will die out there…and what if these dreams aren't even real?" Robb demanded of Howland who shook his head.

"They are real. Speak to your brother, and speak to the wildling woman if you don't believe me. Winter is coming, Your Grace. You, of all people, must be prepared for it. Send your brother North with a token force of men while you go to the Iron Islands. My son has foreseen your victory there, he has foreseen you raising a great dynasty that will lead and revultionize Westeros for thousands of years, he has seen you and Margaery Tyrell at Renly Baratheon's camp and he has seen you behead Euron Greyjoy as Pyke burns to the ground. He has seen Jon Snow surrounded by enemies in the North, and he has seen a blonde girl with three dragons trapped in chains in Qarth who needs your help, and finally he has seen her by your side along with Jon Snow as the three of you face the Long Night."

"The Long Ni-? Ok. Alright. I've entertained this for long enough, my lord. But I can hear no more. I thank you for all you have done for my family but I cannot heed the counsel you have just given me. It is madness."

"Actually, it's the truth, Your Grace." Came a voice from the door. Jojen Reed stood, holding the door open as he looked at Robb and his father.

"Jojen! This is the King's private solar! Have you no respect?" Howland reprimanded his son sternly, who looked ashamed for a moment before he once again spoke out of turn.

"I am sorry, Your Grace. I am sorry, father. But I saw that the King would not agree…and that this sets us on a far more dangerous course. Jon Snow will be killed at Castle Black in a month if you are not there to assist him in holding off a wildling army. Daenerys Targaryen will die in chains if you do not cross the Narrow Sea with Jon Snow, Dacey Mormont, Smalljon Umber and Ser Loras Tyrell to save her. The Long Night will not be stopped, and the Kingdoms will fall one-by-one. I saw you and Queen Margaery frozen in the Throne Room of the Red Keep as the Others march over your corpses. If you do not believe me…sleep tonight close to your direwolf, and I will show you."

" _What?_ Sincerely, are you Reeds touched with madness? Do you hear the words you speak?" Robb said incredulously earning a sharp look from Howland.

"The Crannogmen follow a different way of life, Your Grace. That does not make us any less loyal to you and your cause. I loved your father like a brother, and for that love I will remain here until you are convinced of the threat my son preaches."


	26. Chapter 26

_"There are two realities I want to show you, Your Grace…"_ came Jojen Reed's ethereal voice from a deep fog that Robb suddenly found himself surrounded by. He could feel Grey-Wind by his side, and he could feel the wolf's anxiety at a situation it did not understand.

"What is this, Jojen? Black magic?" Robb called, his voice echoing as though they were in a dark hall.

"No, Your Grace. You, like Bran, have the gift of greenseeing hidden inside you. Your direwolf brings it out of you, and by his side the gift is strongest, yet you still do not know how to use it properly, or how to even control Grey-Wind consciously." Jojen appeared by Robb's side, walking before his King as the fog cleared to reveal that they were in the deep North. Bran, Jojen and a small group of Stark men and Reed men trekked past them, and though Robb could see his brother as clear as day, the image of Bran felt hazy and far away to him as he tried to reach out to it.

"I can only show you what I've seen. These are my visions." Jojen reminded Robb, his voice sounding strained.

"Bran will meet the three-eyed-raven who will give him the gift of skinchanging, which he will bring back to you and the rest of the Starks. This will help you in the Long Night. While Bran is North…" the image of Bran studying keenly at the feet of an old weirwood in a dark, deep cave where what appeared to be a man was being consumed by the very roots of the weirwood tree. The man had long white hair and one empty eye socket where the weirwood roots were growing out of, causing Robb to recoil in horror for a moment before the scene changed once more.

"You will lead a great army west to the Iron Islands…" the image Robb saw before him changed to that of himself on a grand war galley with Brynden Tully and Garlan Tyrell beside him, the three men looked onto a hazy image of the Iron Islands that Robb tried to focus on, before it too was replaced by the image of Robb and his men fighting valiantly on the shores of Pyke as the Greyjoy fleet sank in the seas behind them.

"You will win yet another battle…and you will do as you had desired and as the country needs…you will destroy Pyke and House Greyjoy…" the image changed to that of future-Robb standing before the walls of Pyke with Euron Crow's-Eye kneeling over a block before him. The castle quickly began to burn as Euron was beheaded by future-Robb's sword.

"When you have salted the Iron Islands, you will return to King's Landing with your family in tow…you will be celebrated and loved…you will marry Margaery Tyrell and sire an heir on your wedding night itself…" the hazy images before Robb changed from a burning Pyke and a headless Euron Greyjoy to a montage of Robb riding through the gates of King's Landing as the walls flew banners of House Stark, the image changed to Robb cloaking a beautiful Margaery on their wedding day, before finally Robb saw himself and Margaery in bed with a babe in her arms. Robb's jaw dropped as he took a step forward, wanting the life he saw.

"There is more happiness to come along in this life, Your Grace. But if you make the wrong decisions…as I have seen…" the happy image of Robb, Margaery and a baby changed to that of an army of white-walkers and their undead followers marching through Winterfell where corpses of his family were littered on the ground, he saw screaming citizens, death, chaos and destruction, and finally Margaery's frozen body wrapped in his own frozen arms on the floors of the Red Keep.

"NO!" Robb shouted, trying to move sluggishly through the dream, only to suddenly feel like he was falling very, very fast. With a jerk and a gasp, Robb leaped up in bed as Grey-Wind too leaped to his feet whining.

"Sssh…its ok, boy. Its ok." Robb soothed his direwolf, panting as he did so while a cold sheen of sweat ran down his face. Jojen Reed's last words haunting him

" _The decision is yours."_

* * *

 _Author's Note: Throwing in some magical elements here._


	27. Chapter 27

The day after Winterfell had been retaken by the Starks, and after a great feast had been held in the camps and in the castle to celebrate Robb's great victories in the mainland, the King of the Seven Kingdoms locked himself in his solar with the Reeds and his brother Bran for several hours, causing some concern amongst his bannermen.

"Bran needs protection. Crossing the Wall itself is madness, but if what you say is true then he will be in the greatest of dangers." Robb did not look at Meera, Jojen, Howland or Bran, instead he stared into the fire of his solar with his back to them.

"Jojen will find us the safest path. With a guard, enough supplies and horses, I know I can make it there, Robb. The raven has come to me every single night-."

"I know, Bran. I know. Jojen Reed has told me all." Robb sighed, placing a hand on the mantlepiece to bow his head for a moment.

"No-one outside this room and Bran's guard can know about this. It will make me seem no better than Stannis to the southern lords. I cannot have dissent spread through my ranks while there is still a battle to be won. Bran, you will take Harlow Umber, Jojen, Meera, and…Hal, Tomas and Grover, father's men. They will protect you. Take our strongest horses and enough supplies to last you. You will leave at once, and I will say that I am sending you on a diplomatic mission to the Neck. You must return to Winterfell at once, do you understand me? By the time I have sailed to King's Landing, I want to have heard from Jon at the Wall that you are on your way back."

"Bran will not make it back by that time." Jojen said, knowing that Robb Stark would not be happy.

"He will, or he won't go at all." Robb said through gritted teeth.

"You worry for him, you're a good brother. But if you care for him, and wish to see him freed from the pain of his injury…you need to let him go, and you need to let him learn."

"And what of the Wall? Of Jon? You say he is beyond the lines, you say a wildling army marches on him and he needs my help?"

"Yes, he does. But that is some time away. Your plans are to raze Pyke and install Baelor Blacktyde as Lord of the Iron Islands then to sail back to King's Landing where your army will disperse home?" Jojen asked, earning a reluctant nod from Robb who was ever-glad that this boy's gifts were on the Northern side.

"You cannot do this. Baelor Blacktyde is dead, and the only future for the Ironborn is death. They bring nothing but strife upon Westeros and will plague your rule forever more if you do not destroy them now. I know you wish to return to King's Landing, but peace will not find Westeros until the Others are sent back to their realm. I do now know what your choice is, but you must both assist Jon and save the Night's Watch as well as sailing to Qarth to save Daenerys Targaryen from the House of the Undying where is being held against her will. To defeat the Others, there must be a Stark, you, who represents the ice, and there must be a Targaryen, Daenerys, who represents the fire. Jon Snow's place and purpose in this life is to defeat the Others as an amalgamation of both, as a Prince of Ice and Fire." Jojen's words once again caused Robb's head to painfully spin. The Wolf King sank into his chair shaking his head once more.

"I will decide what action to take when I have dealt with the Iron Islands. I suggest you write me a list of things I should be prepared for, Jojen Reed. Lest I send our country to a frozen hell. Harlow Umber will have to stay behind, his father would never let him go that far North for that long. Bran…I am putting you in charge of the party. This is your first command, even if it is not what Starks normally do. Gather your men and venture forth after the executions."

"Thank you, Robb. For trusting me." Bran smiled at his elder brother who did his best to smile back. Bran was his heir, and the only logical choice to hold Winterfell. If he was hurt, it would haunt Robb for the rest of his life.

After his long talk, Robb Stark, First of His Name, King of the Andals, the First Men and the Rhoynar, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm walked out into the main courtyard of Winterfell, where all the residents of Winterfell and all of Robb's noble lords were gathered to watch what was to take place eagerly.

A light summer snow was falling as Robb walked down the great wooden steps from the pavilion where his father and mother had once watched he and Jon teach Bran how to fire an arrow, so many months ago. Robb was dressed in a finely-stitched black woolen doublet, the buttons of which were sterling silver direwolf heads, around his shoulders was a heavy cloak lined with silver wolf's fur, his crown was on his head where it usually was, and _Ice_ was being carried by his squire behind him.

In the centre of the courtyard was a platform where Theon Greyjoy had given his 'inspiring' speech to his Ironborn, upon that platform was now an ancient block stained with the blood of over a hundred men that the Lords of Winterfell had executed.

Six Stark guards in boiled leather held three prisoners before the platform; Roose Bolton, Petyr Baelish and Theon Greyjoy. Robb had looked forward to this moment for many months, to finally execute those who betrayed him and to cement his hold on the Seven Kingdoms. Robb walked past the three men without even glancing at them, he climbed the steps of the platform to cheers from his people. Robb raised a hand for silence.

"This year…has been filled with bloodshed, horror and pain. My father, Lord Eddard Stark went south to serve his King honorably. He was betrayed, taken prisoner and denounced falsely as a traitor the realm. My father was the most honorable man in the Seven Kingdoms, and I lay blame for the treachery he suffered at the feet of Petyr Baelish. A man who served Joffrey and Queen Cersei before King Robert's body was even cold. A worm of a man who has claimed falsehoods against my mother and my aunt. My uncle Brandon spared his life at the behest of his betrothed. It was a mistake. Today, I correct that mistake. Bring him forth." Robb called, turning to let his cloak drop from around his shoulders before he unsheathed _Ice._ Baelish, who had been a prisoner of Robb's since Storm's End so long ago, was a shadow of his former self. A scruffy beard replaced his usual neat goatee, his face was gaunt, his clothes in rags and he smelled as though he had been rolling in manure. Broken by the treatment of the Northmen, Baelish knew he had played one card too many in his game, and he had lost. He had assumed Ned Stark's honor to be a weakness, but it had earned him a great following outside of King's Landing.

Baelish said nothing as he was dragged before Robb.

"Petyr Baelish, for the crimes of high treason against my father, Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell, Warden of the North and Hand of the King. I do hereby sentence you to death. Do you have any final words, my lord?" Robb asked, as he placed _Ice_ before him.

Baelish merely smirked, looking like his old self for a moment "Game well played, Stark. But don't think that it's over. This realm that you've just won yourself is nothing but chaos. You cannot rule over chaos."

"No. But I can destroy it. Kneel." Robb retorted coldly, sending Baelish to his knees roughly, he was held down on the block by one of the Stark guards as Robb took a step back to swing _Ice_ through the air, the Valyrian steel sung before it took off Baelish's head with a single, clean swipe.

"Put his head on a pike." Robb said dismissively, picking up Baelish's head by his haggard hair to show it to the crowd before a guard relieved him of the dismembered head.

"Lord Roose Bolton of the Dreadfort." Robb called as Baelish's body was dragged away. Roose showed no hint of emotion as he climbed the steps to face Robb, his hands shackled behind his back.

"For your crimes of high treason against me, for conspiring with Tywin Lannister against your liege lord, your allies and your King, and to rid the North of the stain that is House Bolton, I do sentence you to die. Do you have any final words, my lord?"

"If you think killing me is the end, that you are sadly mistaken. My son will rise up against you, the Dreadfort is well-garrisoned and will hold ou-."

"Ramsay Snow was killed by the Greatjon Umber after my men managed to sneak in to your castle. The Karstarks hold the Dreadfort now, and your line is ended. Kneel, my lord." Robb's words finally brought emotion to Roose, who looked stunned, angry and distraught at the news.

"No. You cannot do this. My family has flayed your kin for thousands of years! We will not end at your hand, boy!" Roose struggled against his guards before being forced to kneel, his chin and throat being stained by the still wet blood of Petyr Baelish. Robb did not think twice as he beheaded Roose Bolton and ended the line of House Bolton once and for all.

Finally Robb looked to Theon Greyjoy, who looked completely and utterly broken as he was shoved up onto the platform before Robb. The two men looked at each other for a moment, before Robb, unable to control himself swung a powerful fist into Theon's jaw, sending his former friend crashing to the platform floor.

"Pick him up." Robb growled "Theon Turncloak of the House Greyjoy, invader of the North, traitor to the realm and my former friend. For your treason…in betraying me and my orders, betrating the trust I had in you, and for the audacity of beseiging my castle of Winterfell. I sentence you to die, as warning for any man who would think to betray the Royal House of Stark from this day onward. I mourn the boy I grew up with, for he died when I learned of what you did. You, Turncloak, I will not mourn."

"If you kill me, you will have no hope of suing for peace with my father!" Theon shouted desperately through a mouthful of blood.

"Peace? There will be no peace for the Iron Islands. Only destruction. Your father has perished, fallen from the bridges of Pyke. Your sister is captive in Deepwood Motte, and your Uncle Euron has claimed the Seastone Chair. After I am done with you, I will take his head as well. Make no mistake. Kneel, Turncloak."

"Robb…I'm sorry." Theon said desperately, looking into Robb's eyes with tears in his own. Robb had no compassion for his former friend, who had been willing to kill and burn two boys to hide his blunders. Theon had threatened Robb's power by taking Winterfell, Robb had to show that any man who dared attempt such a thing would not meet a good end. He simply nodded to the guards who pushed Theon over the bloodied stump as he cried.

"Goodbye, Theon." Robb said quietly, before in a swift stroke he too was beheaded by _Ice._ The gathered crowd cheered as Robb shook his head, his shaking hand nearly dropping the greatsword as he saw his old friend's head roll to look at him with dead, hollow eyes.

"Send word to Riverrun, King's Landing and Highgarden that the traitors have been executed." Robb said to Luwin a little while later, as the Young Wolf wrung his hands together in the great hall of Winterfell where his lords bannermen were feasting. Robb himself could not touch a thing, all he felt was guilt for killing his friend, even though Theon had betrayed him first.

"You did what you had to do, Robb. I counseled him to run, to flee to the Night's Watch. He chose to stay and fight. You reap what you sow, despite what the Greyjoys claim as their House words."

"Aye. I know that. But here I am, back in Winterfell. Father is dead. Theon is dead. Bran is gone. Mother is in Riverrun with Arya and Sansa is in Highgarden. The Starks are scattered." Robb said sadly, causing Luwin to place a hand on his shoulder.

"Not for long, Your Grace. Not for long." Luwin smiled.

* * *

Author's Note: Hey, hey. So just so everyone's aware, I'll be summarizing what happened in the Iron Islands, as to describe each battle in detail would take many chapters xD


	28. Chapter 28

When the raven reached Highgarden, Margaery Tyrell, betrothed to King Robb Stark, was the first person that Maester Lomys found. She had been on her way to visit Sansa and her brother Willas when the Maester had come charging out of his chambers with a scroll in his hands.

"My lady! _My lady!_ A raven from the North! King Robb's seal!" the Maester shouted, having seen Margaery's form at the end of the corridor. Margaery whipped around, picking up her skirts to hurry towards the Maester, all but snatching the two scrolls from his hands. She saw the grey wax direwolf's head seal and felt a flutter in her chest as she pulled the first scroll apart to have her eyes whizz across the parchment, with each word her smile broadened, until she lowered the scroll with joy in her golden brown eyes.

"My lady? Good news?"

"Great news! Robb has reclaimed the North and taken Winterfell. He executed the traitors Petyr Baelish, Roose Bolton and Theon Greyjoy and has left Ser Rodrik Cassel as castellan of the castle with most of the Stark men left under his command. Robb himself is marching out with the southern army for the Shadow Tower at the time of the letter. He should have arrived by now."

"The Shadow Tower, my lady? Why has he gone to the Night's Watch?" Lomys asked curiously, receiving an impatient click of the tongue from Margaery.

"He will join his fleet before sailing to the Iron Islands where he intends to vanquish the troublesome Ironborn. Maester, find my father. King Robb has requested that Lady Sansa and I ride to King's Landing to be ready to receive his mother and sister Arya. He has named an Acting Small Council to establish order under Lord Randyll Tarly...and under me." Margaery smiled, breaking the seal on the other scroll to read the words that Robb had penned himself.

"He has named me _Princess-Consort to the King_ , and has given me authority to act with his voice in King's Landing." She said almost breathlessly, her head spinning somewhat. Maester Lomys himself looked like a fish out of water as he gaped at her. King Robb was setting a new precedent in Westeros, one that could send potential shockwaves through the realm.

"But…how is that possible? How can he do that…?" Lomys couldn't help but ask, earning a sharp look from Margaery Tyrell.

"He is the King, Maester. He will do as he see fits. I must tell Lady Sansa at once. Bring this news to my father and Loras, I wish for us to ride out within the fornight."

"My lady, Ser Loras will want to plan a suitable date-."

"I am to be Queen, Maester. And my brother will soon serve me. Please tell Loras and my father that I wish to ride out within the fortnight." Margaery said with a smile that was somehow also barbed with thorns. The Maester faltered slightly, bowing his head once before turning on his heel to find Lord Mace and Ser Loras.

Margaery herself made her way down to the grand receiving halls of Highgarden, where her larger extended family spent their days in leisure. Though she intended to find Sansa at once, Margaery could not help but go to her grandmother first with the news. She found Olenna surrounded by her cousins and other noble ladies on one of Highgarden's amazingly grand pavilions , overlooking the sprawling gardens and beautiful fountains of the palatial grounds.

"My word!" Olenna's eyes nearly popped out of her old, wrinkled face as she read Robb's edict.

"And you haven't even married him yet. Good work, my love!" Olenna declared with a chuckle, handing the scroll back to Margaery delicately.

"Its not that, Grandmother, Robb… _trusts_ me. He trusts me to rule and he knows I will do it well." Her words were thoughtful as her cheeks tinted pink in longing for her betrothed who had been fighting for what seemed like the better part of three or four months.

"Oh Margaery…" Olenna sighed rolling her eyes "Off with you, silly girl. Make your preparations to leave."

"Will you join me, Grandmother? I could use your advice in the capital. Robb wants it cleared out of the corruption that King Robert and the Mad King left behind. I cannot do it alone, and Randyll Tarly is a difficult man at the best of times. He's scared of you though."

"Of course he is." Olenna sighed, before thinking for a few moments "Why not? To see Tywin Lannister and his golden twins languishing in the Black Cells is a treat this old girl just cannot pass up." She laughed, causing Margaery to smile.

"Excellent. We leave within the fortnight. Loras shall ride with us, and father and Willas will use the reserve force they've been raising to guard Highgarden." Margaery declared, earning a nod of approval from Olenna.

However before Margaery could leave to find Sansa and Willas, they found her. They had hurried into the room behind Loras and Lord Mace who looked deeply, deeply disturbed.

"You cannot go to King's Landing." Margaery's father sounded incredibly serious, something she had rarely experienced.

"Father…?"

"We have just received word from Lord Randyll, Margaery. There was an accident in the Guildhall of the Alchemists." Willas explained, leaning heavily on his cane as Sansa Stark had a supportive hand on his back.

"What?" Margaery asked in shock, rising from where she was sat by her grandmother as the ladies-in-waiting gasped dramatically.

"Fighting broke out in the city between hidden Lannister loyalists and our Stark loyalists, it was city-wide, Lord Randyll had to have the castle and city sealed off. No-one knows what the cause was yet, but Cersei Lannister had commissioned the pyromancers to create thousands of pots of wildfire for the siege."

"Foolish woman. Where was it stored?" Olenna Tyrell asked, looking from her son to her grandsons.

"Beneath the city. Most of Rhaenys's Hill is destroyed, Flea Bottom, the Street of Silk, the Street of the Sisters, Cobbler's Square and the Dragonpit. Thousands are dead, but nobody can know for sure how many. Lord Tarly evacuated the city as soon as the fires began, the rains came but the city burned still. Visenya's Hill and Aegon's High Hill have remained untouched. Blame is being placed on the Lannisters, and the whole city calls for their heads. Lord Tarly has not the men to keep the peace." Loras explained after looking to his father for a moment who had remained silent.

"Then we must go, father! The city needs Highgarden now more than ever. King Robb is fighting in the North and has left us, left _me_ to rule in his stead. I cannot sit idle in the safety of Highgarden when my people need me. Robb's orders are clear, he wishes for me to rule. As Princess-Consort, I declare that Highgarden will assist King's Landing relief efforts at once." Margaery's words were met with shocked stares from her family until she showed them Robb's edict.

"I suppose we cannot deny her now. She is one step away from being our Queen." Loras said wryly, placing his hands on his belt to smile at his sister.

"No time for jokes, Loras. Ready the men our King left under your charge and march for the capital at once. Lord Tarly will need assistance in keeping the peace. Leave behind four hundred men to escort Lady Sansa, grandmother and myself, and the supplies we will bring. We have no time to waste."


	29. Chapter 29

Robb Stark and his army had waited for his fleet at the Shadow Tower for a week, giving them time to reorganize the men that joined them from the east and west. Many Northmen had returned home upon Robb's orders to gather a last harvest in preparation for a harsh winter. He had ordered this before even learning from Jojen Reed that Westeros was about to face one of the cruelest and harshest winters it had ever seen.

When the fleet had arrived, the United Army numbered just over one-hundred-and-fifteen-thousand strong, comprised of Stormlords, Riverlords, Reachmen, and a number of Northmen who wished to fight with King Robb till the very end, and see the Iron Islands destroyed. Robett Glover was amongst the most vocal, having been deeply traumatized by watching his elder brother die at Asha Greyjoy's hands. Asha Greyjoy, who was sent to Winterfell as a hostage.

One-hundred-and-thirty ships Robb had under his command, the largest surviving fleet in Westeros, and it was only enough to carry just over 40, 000 men.

Robb had been faced with a great dilemma at that point, until a rider from Castle Black had sought him out in the Shadow Tower. The rider had told Robb of the threat the Night's Watch faced, and of how Lord Commander Mormont had led a Great Ranging, and only one of his men had returned; Samwell Tarly. Maester Aemon requested Robb's assistance, and from what Jojen Reed told him, Robb could not refuse.

The remaining force of his men were disgruntled to learn that they were remaining at the Wall to fortify the many abandoned castles, but when word began to spread some weeks later of a great wildling army marching for them, many regained morale and took their duty with fervor whilst Robb Stark simultaneously crushed the Iron Fleet and beseiged the Iron Islands with little mercy. Blacktyde fell to them first, with House Blacktyde yielding the Island after Robb's army had landed on the shores, overwhelming the sea-fairing Iron Islanders. Baelor Blacktyde, whom Robb had wanted to name as the new Lord of the Iron Islands, was dead. In his place was his brother Maegor Blacktyde, who was every bit as cruel and mad as the Targaryen King he was named for.

Robb had little choice when Maegor chose to face him in single combat and died on Robb's sword. The dominion of Blacktyde was granted to House Mallister after their victory, with Lord Jason promising to garrison the island with his own men as soon as he returned to Seagard.

Orkmont fell next, with House Orkwood viciously defending themselves against Robb's incursion, but being unable to do much after their ships had been destroyed by the Royal Fleet that embargoed the Iron Islands from contacting each other. House Tawney yielded first, under the command of Little Lenwood Tawney, a young boy who had inherited the Lordship after his uncle's death at Brynden Tully's sword. As a reward, Robb allowed him to keep his title and named him Lord of Orkmont, sworn in service to the Tullys of Riverrun.

For almost three weeks, the pattern was the same. Harlaw fell, Great Wyk fell, Old Wyk fell and Saltcliffe fell. Many Ironborn chose to die in battle rather than yield, and they all got their wish. The Ironborn were fierce, but they were also sailors. Their strength came from the sea, whereas Robb's army were trained combatants with sword and shield.

The Houses that yielded were granted some small mercies depending on their reputations. The first House to bend the knee to Robb was House Harlaw of Harlaw. Rodrik the Reader had pulled his men back from battle and sent a pledge of allegiance to Robb, who accepted and named Rodrik the new Lord of the Iron Islands in reward, showing mercy to any Ironborn who did the same. The Harlaw fleet was then added to Robb's navy. Instead of setting Ironborn against Ironborn, Robb had the Harlaw fleet and men enforce the embargo line around the Islands.

The only island Robb razed to the ground was Saltcliffe, and the last island to withstand him was Pyke.

Euron Greyjoy's fleet around the main island was strong, but as the other isles had fallen, so too had his strength weakened. Robb had found himself disconcerted when he stood on the deck of his flagship between Garlan Tyrell and Brynden Tully sailing for Pyke. It was the exact scene that Jojen Reed had shown him in Winterfell so many weeks ago. Robb did not wish to admit the boy was right, but as his siege of Pyke continued, he saw more and more of what Jojen had shown him brought to life; his army fighting valiantly on the shores of Pyke as Euron's fleet sank behind them; the walls of Pyke crumbling and falling from fire and Robb's siege weapons; and finally Euron Greyjoy, bloodied and bruised and kneeling before Robb for execution.

"Euron Greyjoy," Robb had begun, standing before the burning castle of Pyke and watched by his soldiers as Euron Greyjoy was held between three Stark guards in shackles.

"Your own brother, Balon Greyjoy, exiled you from Westeros for crimes against your family. Evidence had been attained from your ship _the Silence_ of your soliciting the House of Black and White to murder Balon Greyjoy so you could claim his chair. A mistake on your part, for now it is you I name invader of the North, you who I name traitor and you who I condemn to death on this day." Euron simply smirked at Robb before making to take a step forward to spit a glob of blood phlegm at him. Robb swiftly stepped aside to dodge it, causing Euron to scowl as he was forced to his knees.

"What is dead may never die." Euron screamed, before _Ice_ beheaded the Crow-Eye to cheers of Robb's army.

With that, with the death of Euron Greyjoy, Robb had settled all belligerent hostiles in Westeros. He remained the only standing King from the War of Five Kings, and in doing so had gone from being the Lord of Winterfell, to the most powerful and respected man in the western world.

His name was being chanted by his men as Robb turned to have the wind blow a fresh salty breeze through his dark locks of hair, his blue eyes were smoldering, for he knew that this was far from the end.

Another battle awaited him at the Wall.

* * *

 _Author's Note: Here it is, here it is! Robb Stark conquers the Iron Islands and grants dominion of Harlaw, Pyke, Old Wyk and Great Wyk to the Tullys, while he gives Orkmont and Blacktyde to the Mallisters. I really wanted to get through the Iron Campaign quickly as Robb has a lot more left to do in this story :)_

 _Author's Note 2.0:_ _I forgot about Rodrik Harlaw as I was writing this chapter initially, until a very helpful reviewer reminded me of Rodrik being the most likely Iron Lord to bend the knee to Robb. In my opinion, it does make more sense to have a loyal Ironborn as Lord of the Iron Islands rather than grant the Islands to the Tullys and Mallisters as I had originally written. I have edited this chapter to have the Harlaws as the ruling Ironborn House._


	30. Chapter 30

**_Author's Note: I just wanted to put a short snippet in here about my edit on the previous chapter. Robb has installed Lord Rodrik Harlaw as Lord of the Iron Islands as opposed to granting the Islands to the Tullys or Mallisters._**

 ** _Now back to your regular scheduled programming...(cue Game of Thrones theme song)_**

* * *

By the time Robb's fleet had returned to Westwatch-by-the-Bridge, the Wall was on full alert. He did not delay at Westwatch, riding with all haste for the Shadow Tower with Brynden Tully and Ser Garlan and ten thousand men. Lord Jason Mallister and Ser Davos Seaworth were tasked to organize the men that fought in the Iron Islands and retask them across the Wall.

Robb charged the men to march onwards to Castle Black as he, the Blackfish and Ser Garlan stopped at the Shadow Tower to be met by Ser Denys Mallister at the gates. Ser Denys was Lord Jason's great-uncle, and was the grizzled old Commander of the Shadow Tower. His grimness however did not bode well for Robb as they strode into the castle together.

"Jon Snow returned only a few hours after your fleet set sail for the Iron Islands, Your Grace. He was feathered with arrows and near death, but he has been nursed back to health. There are claims he betrayed the Watch to the Wildlings, and has been detained in a cell at Castle Black by order of Acting Commander Thorne." Ser Denys growled as he and Robb stood in the courtyard of the Shadow Tower. A heavy snow was falling that capped everyone around with a crown of white, Robb himself brushed his upper lip in thought.

"And what word did Jon bring back?"

"He says that Mance Rayder leads an army of one-hundred-thousand for Castle Black, and that the Others march behind him. The White Walkers. Snow counseled to let Mance pass and admitted to laying with a wildling girl. Thorne wishes to execute him for breaking his oaths, but Maester Aemon has so far been able to keep him from doing so. He knows that if Jon Snow dies by the Watch, your fury will know no end."

"He was right. Have my army been fortifying the castles along the Wall per my command?" Robb asked, turning on his heel to walk back out of the southern gates of the Shadow Tower where the rearguard of his host was still marching east for Castle Black. The Blackfish and Ser Garlan sat mounted, waiting for Robb.

"Aye, Your Grace. Most of the castles have been garrisoned by your men, we thank you."

"The Watch can thank me by not having my brother executed." Robb said coldly, mounting his horse with skilled ease.

"Prepare for battle, Ser Denys. Death marches on the Wall." Robb warned, before turning his horse to gallop east with the Blackfish and Ser Garlan Tyrell in tow.

* * *

It took Robb the better part of two days to reach Castle Black, fighting against a fierce snow storm that felled just under a dozen of his men and over twenty of his horses. Robb himself felt ill when he rode into the courtyard of Castle Black to be received by Ser Alliser Thorne, Acting Lord Commander, and a number of other men of the Watch. Robb knew that Thorne hated his family, for Alliser had fought for the Targaryens during Robert's Rebellion, and that loyalty had sent him here to the Wall.

"Your Grace." Ser Alliser greeted with a stiff bow, Robb ignored him and instead turned to Maester Aemon and the very fat young man who tended to him.

"Maester Aemon. I wish to see my brother at once." Robb declared, pulling his riding gloves off.

"Of course, Your Grace. He has been detained in an ice cell."

"An ice cell? Who gave that order?" Robb raised his voice, turning on the assembled command of the Night's Watch who shamefully avoided his eye and looked to Thorne, who all but gulped as he stepped forward to face the Young Wolf.

"I did. I am Acting Commander and the bastard broke his vows to the Watch. He laid with the enemy and is probably leading Mance Rayder right to us!" Robb shook his head in disbelief.

"Jon was shot by over three arrows, he could have ridden to the Last Hearth, he could have ridden to any of my bannermen in the North and they would have taken him in. He rode here, because he believed in his vows. If you are so ignorant as to think that he intends to betray the Watch, then I do not believe you are fit to be Acting Commander." Robb stated, turning his back on Thorne who paled at Robb's words as the men of the Night's Watch all looked at Thorne.

"Tarly. Show His Grace to Jon Snow." Aemon commanded of the man who attended him. Robb then turned his gaze to the boy. Lord Randyll Tarly's eyes looked back at him, but instead of anger and irritation, the eyes looking at him now glinted with a warm curiosity.

"Tarly? Of Horn Hill?" Robb asked the man as they walked alone to the ice cells of Castle Black.

"A-aye, Your Grace. S-Samwell Tarly, son of Randyll. Do-do you know my family?" the Tarly man asked nervously, causing Robb to raise a confused eyebrow as they walked.

"Your father has fought loyally for my cause. I have named him Governor of King's Landing in my stead." Robb said in what he thought was a compliment, only to see Samwell's face darken.

"I did not mean offence…?"

"You've given none, Your Grace. My father and I…are just not on the best of terms. There are a number of ravens waiting for you, Your Grace. From Highgarden, King's Landing and Riverrun." Samwell said rather more formally, before stopping before a cell. His voice warmed with friendly affection and concern when he unlocked the cell door to greet Jon Snow, who looked up in great surprise to see Robb.

"Robb!" Jon exclaimed trying to rise and failing from his weariness.

"Jon." Robb went to the man who had grown up as a brother alongside him and assisted him to his feet.

"It is my royal order than Jon Snow be released from his cell at once."

"Your Grace…the Watch is beyond the words and orders of royalty…" Samwell said reluctantly as he helped Robb by taking Jon's other arm.

"Oh are they? Well they seem perfectly happy to accept the orders of royalty when it gives them lands and men. The hypocricy will not stand while I am here. So long as my men garrison the Wall, the Night's Watch is under my dominion. Help me take Jon to his chambers."

* * *

"You've changed." Jon commented later that night, propped up on his pillows in bed, a fire roaring in his chambers as Robb sat by his bedside.

"Have I?" Robb asked with a half-smile

"I suppose we all did when father died…" Jon commented sadly, before running a hand through his long, dark hair. Robb had yet to tell Jon of his true parentage, and resolved that needed to be one of their topics of discussion that night.

"You've become a lot more commanding, you have a much larger presence now. You are the King I suppose. I can't believe I left you as a little heir to Winterfell, and now you are the King of Westeros." Jon said with a shake of his head. Robb himself shrugged.

"Father was taken…I had to march out…I wish-…I wish you could have joined me, Jon. I needed you. All I had was Theon." Robb said softly, causing Jon to bow his head in shame.

"I tried to come, Robb. I did. But my friends-…they stopped me. They were right…I made oaths to the Night's Watch…I would have been beheaded as a deserter. Probably by you!"

"I would never have done that to you, you know that. Still. I am King now, and there is much for us to discuss…it was hard enough to rule the North, but now I have Seven Kingdoms to worry about. Jon, listen. I need to know what happened North of the Wall. If I intend to defend you agaisnt Thorne, I need the full story." Robb's declaration earned a sigh from Jon who paused for a moment before beginning his explanation of events following Qhorin Halfhand drafting him into his unit to kill a group of Wildling scouts. Jon told Robb of his inability to kill Ygritte, of how that led to the deaths of three of the Watchmen and the Halfhand and Jon's capture. Jon spoke of how the Halfhand wished for Jon to infiltrate Mance Rayder's army and learn of their plans, Robb heard of how Jon scaled the Wall with Tormund Giantsbane, and of how Jon had escaped only to be shot full of arrows by the girl he had broken his Night's Watch oaths with.

"Well…hell hath no fury, I suppose…" Robb commented wryly, earning a bemused smile from Jon.

"Then you returned…and you counseled Thorne and high command to let Mance pass. Why?"

"I've seen them, Robb. The White Walkers. They are not a story, they are not a song…they're real…and they're coming for us. I swore to protect the realms of men, the Wildlings are no different from us. Rougher, yes, but they were just on the wrong side of the Wall. They don't deserve to die because of an age old rivalry." Robb sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"The Long Night truly approaches…" Robb sighed, leaning back in his chair "Damn that Jojen Reed."

"What?" Jon asked in confusion. Robb sighed, before leaning forward to clasp his hands together and explain the visions of Jojen Reed, of Jojen's claims that the Starks were wargs, and of how Jojen saw that Jon and Robb needed to unite with Daenerys Targaryen to save Westeros from the blight of the White Walkers.

"Daenerys Targaryen? The Mad King's _daughter_? Why in the Seven Hells-?"

"Because she has three dragons. And because…because she's your aunt, Jon."


	31. Chapter 31

_**Author's Note: Just a short chapter showing the brotherly bond between Jon and Robb.**_

* * *

"She's my _what_?" Jon asked incredulously, unable to figure out how he had this relation to an exiled Targaryen.

"You…you are not the son of Ned Stark with...any of the rumors that the Kingdoms have come up with. You are not my father's son to begin with, but this does not make you any less my brother...your true father, your real parents…are Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark." Robb said heavily, knowing that Jon would reject this claim. He just did not know what kind of rejection it would be. And when Jon Snow's eyes momentarily inflamed with rage, Robb felt momentary regret…until Jon fell back in his bed.

"How…how do you know this?" Jon asked quietly after a while.

"Because someone else was there the day of your birth. Lord Howland Reed. He was the only survivor from the Tower of Joy along with my father…and _you_. Lyanna Stark was your mother, Jon. And…to spare you from the wrath of Robert Baratheon, father claimed you as his own. He promised your mother that he would keep you safe and never reveal the secret…but the truth can no longer hide in the shadows. You are of royal blood, Jon." Robb sighed, placing a hand on his brother's forearm.

"Royal blood or no, I am still a bastard. And I have not only lost my father to Joffrey, but now I have lost the idea of him to his own secrets! What do I have instead? A man who kidnapped my mother, probably took advantage of her, and then sent Westeros to rebellion. I was better off as the Bastard of Winterfell. As Ned Stark's son." Jon shook his head, shaking off Robb's hand to press his face into his shaking hands.

"He raised you as a son. He is still your father as much as he was mine. He raised you in his own home, he taught you what he taught me, and we grew up as brothers. We _are_ brothers, and I refuse to think any differently. I know this is hard to hear…but your blood…your heritage…horrible or not, makes you the most important person in the war to come." Robb sighed, causing Jon to look up in confusion, tears in his eyes.

"You were prophesized, Jon. You are of Ice and Fire, you would have been a Prince in another life. You are the man to lead the humans against the Others. And Daenerys Targaryen and I are to assist you. That is why…Bran has gone Beyond-the-Wall…" Robb admitted reluctantly.

"He's gone where?! Robb! This is madness! A cripple boy out there alone as a Wildling army marches on the Wall!" Jon exclaimed, leaping out of his bed at that. He could not allow Bran to be North of the Wall, it was too dangerous. How could Robb have allowed such a thing?

"He is not alone. He needs to do this, Jon. I didn't want to let him go, I had to. Jojen Reed showed me things…that haunt me even now and will haunt me to my grave. If we do not make the right choices…if we do not prepare ourselves, the world as we know it is lost. Bran is going to learn why all of us have dreams through our direwolves' eyes." That statement from Robb caused Jon to look up sharply.

"You have them too, don't you? You see through Ghost…"

"They're just dreams…" Jon said slowly, sinking back into his bed to stare at Robb with a note of fear and confusion on his features.

"They're not. The Starks…our blood…we have powers long lost to time and to fable. Our direwolves, the dragons returning, the White Walkers, Daenerys Targaryen. This is not coincidence, Jon. Something larger, larger than Kings and armies is at play here. I don't know what to call it, magic maybe? The Gods? Who knows? But what I do know is that I won't be a pawn to be sacrificed, and neither will I let death and destruction to come to my country, which is why…after this farce of a trial that Ser Alliser intends to hold, I will demand that your life be spared in exchange for the monumental support I have been providing the Night's Watch since I arrived North, and will continue to provide once I have retaken King's Landing." Robb declared, causing Jon to pale and look up at his brother with a hollow gaze.

"You can't do that." He said dejectedly, causing Robb to tilt his head.

"You came here voluntarily, Jon Snow. You've risked your life for the Watch and they hold nothing but resentment against you for it. They lock you in an ice cell when you come back to warn them of the wildlings, they call you traitor because you had to stay alive. They don't like you here, Jon. You don't belong here. I will not let you die for false crimes. If they want you gone from the Watch, then they will release you into my custody." Robb said, confidently rising from his chair to cross over to a table by the fire where Samwell Tarly had left the scrolls addressed to Robb. He saw the seal of Lord Tarly, his mother's seal from Riverrun, and a new mark he did not recognize from Highgarden.

"Your custody? What do you intend to do with me, _Your Grace_?" Jon asked, sarcasm heavy in his words.

"After we win this war of the Long Night. I intend to legitimize you as Jon Stark, and name you Warden of the North in service to Bran who will be Lord of Winterfell. You will serve until Rickon is of age to accept the burden, or perhaps even after." Robb said in a somewhat distracted tone as he broke Lord Tarly's seal to unfurl the scroll from King's Landing.

"You must be mad. You've been hit in the head too many times. You've lost your senses." Jon insisted, rising once more to hover his hands above the fire as Robb's eyes widened.

"Good Gods!" the Young Wolf exclaimed, rereading the scroll as Jon jumped.

"What?!" Jon asked, rushing to stand beside Robb and read the scroll over his shoulder.

"Wildfire?" Jon asked in amazement.

"Cersei fucking Lannister. Damn it, a third of the city fallen and thousands dead. They would look to me for leadership now more than ever, and I am a thousand miles away." Robb swore, crushing the scroll in his hands to hurriedly pick at his mother's seal.

"She and Arya are going to Winterfell to be with Bran and Rickon." Robb tossed the scroll aside to pick up the raven from Highgarden which now that he examined it closely, he saw that Margaery had created herself a seal as Robb's Princess-Consort. He smiled for a half-second before pulling the scroll apart to read its contents. With each word, the new burden on his shoulders was eased.

"Gods, I am marrying an amazing woman…" Robb breathed, causing Jon to laugh at his brother, before snatching the scroll from his hands.

"My, my. She's already begun relief efforts and is acting in your name to resettle the people who lost their homes and has called in… _Volantene and Pentoshi_ city planners to rebuild King's Landing. And…awwww ' _I await your return eagerly, I miss you. Love, Margaery'_ if that is not the sweetest thing I have ever read. I want to vomit now." Jon teased with a laugh as Robb shoved his brother roughly to take Margaery's scroll back.

"Do not be jealous that I am to marry the most beautiful woman in the Seven Kingdoms, Snow." Robb shot back, causing Jon to roll his eyes.

"I'm very happy for you. But does she know?" Jon asked Robb seriously, causing the latter to look up in confusion.

"Does she know what?"

"Does she know that you don't have a cock?" Jon asked, before laughing. That sort of jape at his brother would have usually earned a red-faced Robb tackling Jon to the ground, instead the Young Wolf smirked slightly and turned his back to his brother.

"Hold on, hold on, hold on. What was that? Robb Stark, you sly devil. What is that smile about?" Jon said, circling around Robb who tried to avoid looking at Jon by turning on the spot repeatedly.

"Fine!" Robb exclaimed as Jon continued to hassle him. "She _very much knows_ I have a cock, so shut up." Robb said, shoving Jon back onto his bed.

"What?! You-…NO! ROBB STARK!" Jon exclaimed in amused shock.

"Father would be so disappointed." Jon snorted, causing Robb to tilt his head angrily.

"Was it good?"

"Shut up, Jon."

"No, but was it? Did she do that thing with-.?"

"Shut up, Jon."

"You know they like it when you go do-."

" _Shut up, Jon!_ Gods! You are so annoying. I hope they _do_ take your head tomorrow." Robb snapped good-naturedly as Jon laughed, knowing that Robb did not mean his words.

"I did too, you know." Jon said, somewhat proudly, having always had a friendly rivalry between them, not even the change in their situations could stop the two from acting like brothers.

"Oh, I know. The whole damn Wall knows, that's why I'm here to save your horny arse." Robb mocked, causing Jon to sigh and fall back on his bed.

"Rhaegar Targaryen, huh?" Jon asked after a short silence between them, when Robb had been re-reading Margaery's message.

"Aye."

"Doesn't that mean, I have more of a claim to the Iron Throne than you do?" Jon asked with a half-smirk, causing Robb to look up from the scroll with a challenging stare.

"You want it?"

" _Fuck no_. You can keep your Kingdoms, Your Grace. I think the stress of ruling would kill me faster than that ugly chair would." Jon laughed, causing Robb to exhale heavily in annoyance.

"She should have shot more arrows into you…" Robb muttered

* * *

 ** _As always, leave a review! :)_**


	32. Chapter 32

"She should have shot more arrows into you…" Robb muttered, causing Jon to laugh. The men who had grown up as brothers bantered for a few short minutes more before the relative peace they enjoyed was shattered by a long, sharp blast of a horn.

"There could be no possible rangers returning…" Jon sat up quickly before another blast echoed around Castle Black and a cacophony of noise erupted outside Jon's windows.

"Wildlings." Jon breathed, before he and Robb both sprinted from his chambers into the courtyard where Robb's men and the Night's Watch were hurriedly preparing for battle.

"Sam! What are you doing?!" Jon called to his friend who was rushing out of the larder with a nervous look on his face. Robb shook his head, still unable to believe that this was the son of the fierce Lord Tarly.

Robb and Jon both donned their respective armors and armed themselves to take the winch together to the top of the Wall. Robb's crown was still present atop his head as he rolled his shoulders and took several deep, calming breaths. Jon was silent and brooding as always.

"Do you always wear your crown into battle, Your Royal Prick?" Jon teased, causing Robb to flash him a glare.

"Not now." Robb said tersely, causing Jon to sigh and nod.

"Don't die. I can't imagine what will happen to the realm if you do." Jon said quietly to Robb before the winch groaned to a halt and the two Stark men strode out to join the numbers of Robb's army and the Night's Watch atop the wall. They lit torches all along the top, as far as the eye could see, the castles that had been garrisoned by Robb's men rose to assist Castle Black for battle.

Robb and Jon walked to a platform on the edge of the wall to gape at what they saw. Half the front of the forest was lit up in an enormous blaze.

 _"The biggest fire the North has ever seen…"_ Jon repeated Mance Rayder's words with a shake of his head.

"My men will ride out in a two-pronged attack while the Night's Watch holds the Wall. I must ride at once…" Robb said, turning to embrace Jon in a quick hug before the brothers were forced to separate once more.

Before Robb could even lead his men out of the southern gates of Castle Black, a smaller horde of wildlings attacked, forcing Robb and his men to act in defense, and aid the Night's Watch as the Thenns attacked the southern gates. Robb himself faced some of the fiercest warriors he had ever met on that snowy courtyard, taking more than one wound as he fought harder than he had ever though possible, and _he_ had _won_ the War of the Five Kings.

Robb's longsword drove straight through the chest of a large hulking brute of a wildling, that had tried to behead Robb with his crude battleaxe. Robb would later learn that he had killed the Magnar of the Thenns, one of the fiercest and most feared wildlings from Beyond-the-Wall. After Robb pushed the bald corpse off his sword, he found himself face-to-face with a pretty redhead who had just made her way onto the battlefield, her quiver full of unsheathed arrows, one of which who she was aiming straight for Robb's heart. Robb knew who she was the moment he saw her.

"Ygritte, isn't it?" Robb asked, not moving an inch as battle raged on around them.

"How do you know my name?" Ygritte asked fiercely, drawing her arrow back further as she took a step towards Robb.

"I know your name…because my brother loves you." Robb said calmly, sheathing his sword to stand upright and face Ygritte as his men claimed a slow victory over Styr's attack party. Ygritte's eyes widened as she looked from Robb's face to the crown on his head and the direwolf embossed on his black steel armor.

"You're no crow." She commented, her arm faltering slightly

"No. I am King Robb Stark of Westeros. And my men have come to assist the Night's Watch. Put your bow down, Ygritte. Do not die tonight. Live, see Jon. I know he wishes to see you too."

"I don't know what you southerners are like, but where I come from, after you put three arrows in someone, they tend to not want to get too close." Ygritte said fiercely stepping closer to Robb to place the point of her arrow beneath his chin.

"YOUR GRACE!" Ser Garlan Tyrell roared, making to charge forward before Robb held up a hand to stop him.

"I'm fine, Garlan. Secure the castle." Robb called, causing Garlan to stop and stare.

"Secure the castle, Garlan. I am negotiating a surrender for my brother Jon." Robb commanded, causing Garlan to reluctantly turn away, sending two soldiers in his place to draw their sword on Ygritte who did not move.

"I know what happens either way. I put my bow down, they kill me. I kill you, they kill me." Ygritte said, her words somewhat desperate as she dug the point of her arrow into Robb's neck.

"Those are not the only choices. You have yet to kill any man here. You put the bow down, yield to me, and I will see that you are put in a cell. I don't wish to kill the woman my brother loves. Please. Put the bow down…" Robb implored of the redhead, who flicked her eyes around her to see that most of the Thenns were either dead or captures, and Robb's soldiers stood around her with their weapons drawn.

"Put the bow down." Robb said again, causing Ygritte to shout a roar of frustration and fear before throwing her bow and arrow to the ground. It was not Robb's words, but rather the sight of Jon Snow who had just walked out of the winch to lock eyes with Ygritte, that caused her to surrender.

"Take her away. Put her in a cell and see that no harm comes to her." Robb said, to the confusion of his soldiers.

"We just won three wars, I do not intend to fight another when peace can be attained. Take her away." Robb commanded, walking away to be joined by the Blackfish and Ser Garlan who both looked very upset with Robb.

"To gamble with your life!" Ser Garlan exclaimed "What would Margaery say if she'd seen that?"

"That was beyond foolish, Your Grace." Brynden Tully said with a shake of his head, only earning a stern look from Robb in turn.

"I knew she would not attack me. I _knew_ that. Find me Ser Alliser and Donal Noye. I have had an idea." Robb said, wringing his hands together as the dead Thenns were slowly cleared from the courtyard.

"Robb! What was that?!" Jon ran over to Robb's small group, after having shared a small moment with Ygritte as she was being taken away by Robb's soldiers.

"You owe me one, Snow. Your duty is to ensure that she bends the knee and adheres to our laws if I offer her citizenship in our country."

"You-…? What!? Robb, citizenship to the Wildlings?!" Brynden cried out, stepping forward to look at his King with worry.

"Most of the wildlings are normal people like you and me, Uncle. They deserve to live as much as we do. And I do not want to send my men to another fight. I will meet with Mance Rayder and offer him terms that he will have no choice to accept. Or else I shall crush him in the morrow." Robb stated, walking away from the three men to seek out Alliser Thorne and Donal Noye, the commanders of Castle Black.

* * *

They all said Robb was mad, that he had lost his touch for battle. Rumors flew fast and furious through Castle Black, but the Young Wolf cared little; he knew he was doing the right thing. The only problem had been finding a rider who would take Robb's offer for a parley to Mance Rayder. A rider who would have ridden out to face the front-lines of the wildling army. No man from the Night's Watch _or_ Robb's army had been bold enough to volunteer. Only Jon Snow raised his hand.

There was no time to discuss it, and though Robb did not like the idea, he could not do anything but agree. Jon was given a horse, a torch and a white peace banner and rode out before Mance Rayder could have given the order to attack.

The gates of the tunnel opening stunned every member of Mance Rayder's army, who froze in their tracks when they saw a single crow riding out on a horse with a peace banner clearly held out before him. The army faltered in their charge and stopped just beyond the tree-line, watching as Jon Snow rode closer towards them. Jon stopped just a ways off from where the army had stopped, and he waited.

He waited as the army stared at him for a long, long time…until finally the army began to split down the middle to make way for Tormund Giantsbane atop a horse.

"Well, well, well. I feared we'd seen the last of you, Jon Snow." Tormund boomed when he faced Jon.

"I never knew you feared anything, Tormund." Jon said, causing Tormund to grin.

"Well said, lad. I see your cloak is black. Mance won't like that. If you've come to switch sides again, best climb back on that Wall of yours."

"I've been sent by King Robb Stark, First of His Name, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm to request a parley with the King-Beyond-the-Wall. King Robb wishes not for bloodshed, but has a force strong enough to destroy the wildlings should it be necessary." Tormund grunted at that, shaking his head before pulling out a flask to take a deep swig from it.

"Mance always wanted to parley. Never thought you crows would listen." Tormund muttered, walking forward to offer Jon the flask as a sign of good will. Jon accepted and took a long drink of a mead so potent it set his chest on fire and caused his eyes to water.

"Har! Can't handle your mead, aye Jon Snow? Very well. Take these terms back to your southern King. Mance will set up a tent right here in No-Man's-Land. At dawn tomorrow, the Kings will meet and speak. How does that sound to you?"

"More than fair. Call off the attack." Jon ordered, calling Tormund to tilt his head challengingly.

"Already called off when you rode out with that pretty white banner of yours."

"Very well. I shall see you on the dawn."

* * *

The Night's Watch was up in arms over Robb's intention to parley with Mance Rayder, and as his commanders and the commanders of the Night's Watch gathered in the dining hall, Robb was already weary.

"The Night's Watch swears political neutrality!" came a shout, causing Robb to stand on a table and bring silence to the room.

"This isn't about politics, you fool. Its about life versus death, I am trying to save lives. This army has seen enough battle and bloodshed for a lifetime, and there is still more yet to come. The Riverlords, the Stormlords and the Reachmen all wish to go home. It has been a long year for them, and the dramatics of the Night's Watch do little to improve my mood or theirs. The Iron Throne is mine, and the realms are ruled by me. You guard the realms of men, we should be working _together_. I do not wish to have to install my own command and change the terms of the Night's Watch, but I will so long as Ser Alliser Thorne continues to seek it." Robb said, turning to glare at the older man who visibly paled.

"Tomorrow, I will be sitting down to parley with Mance Rayder, who among you will join me?" Robb called. Jon, Garlan Tyrell and the Blackfish were the first to stand. Donal Noye, grizzled blacksmith of Castle Black also stood, causing the other Black Brothers to go silent. Donal Noye's support was a heavy thing in Castle Black.

"I will join you, Your Grace. Too long have the Watch battled the wildlings while larger foes lurk Beyond-the-Wall. Peace is what the Night's Watch was founded to preserve. I haven't forgotten, and I hope my brothers have not either." Donal said rather poignantly, earning a smile and an appreciative nod from Robb.

* * *

The next morning, Robb rode at the head of an arrow formation of his men and Night's Watchmen who rode to where Mance Rayder had set up his tent as promised. Robb and Jon were met by Tormund who nodded to them, before looking at Robb's crown with an expression torn between amusement and respect at such a war-like crown.

"Mance is waiting for you." Tormund grunted good-naturedly, before pulling the flap back to allow Robb, Jon, Ser Garlan, Brynden Tully and Donal Noye into the tent, which was warm due to a small fire that was burning beneath the smoke holes of the tent, near the fire was Mance's wife Dalla and her sister Val, both of whom looked at the party briefly.

"My wife's time is near, soon our child will be with us. Dalla and Val will stay, they know what I wish to say to you all." Mance Rayder stated from where he sat behind a small round table in the center of the tent.

Robb felt his heart hammering, for he knew that this entire negotiation depended on his diplomatic skills. It was why he had spent all night talking to Jon about Mance.

When Robb and Mance locked eyes on each other, Robb did not look away, instead walking to the seat that was obviously intended for him and remained standing, looking down at Mance until the man rose to offer Robb his hand.

"I see Jon Snow has been telling you we do not like kneelers here."

"I asked." Robb said, joining Mance to sit down. Jon took the seat beside Robb as the others remained standing behind them.

"Donal Noye, you old bastard. Still alive?"

"Could say the same to you, Mance. Thought Denys would have killed you years ago." Donal retorted gruffly, causing Mance to smile.

"Oh, he tried." Mance finally turned to look back at Robb.

"So the Young Wolf is in my tent. I must admit, I felt intimidated when Tormund told me who wanted to see me. Even here, even beyond your Wall, I've heard of your accomplishments, Robb Stark." Mance said, his tone clearly relaying that he respected Robb.

"I do not know if that is a good thing, but I shall take it as so. I began my last war to save my father and sisters and relieve my people from the yoke of the Lannisters. One war turned into three, and when I took the Iron Throne, I made an oath to protect my people." Robb's words earned a nod from Mance.

"Aye. Tormund, bring us some cups." Mance called, who said nothing until he poured a white liquid into the cups for himself, Tormund and Robb's party to share a toast.

"To protection." Mance said raising his cup.

"To peace." Robb countered, raising his own as Mance gave a shadow of a smile. They all drank, and all the hardened men of war lowered their cups to have their eyes water and their chests burn.

"That's not wine." Ser Garlan Tyrell rasped before giving a slight couch. Tormund clapped the Tyrell son on the back with a laugh.

"No it's not. Its a proper Northern drink, boy! Who's this one? Why's he got flowers all over him?" Tormund asked through a burp, causing Robb to flick his gaze over to Garlan.

"Ser Garlan Tyrell is the brother of the woman I intend to make my Queen, and he is one of the greatest warriors in the Seven Kingdoms." Robb said, earning a half-proud smile from Garlan who blushed slightly.

"Tormund fucked a bear." Mance said in return, causing Brynden Tully to let out a short, sharp burst of laughter that he quickly tried to disguise with a cough, the King of the Freefolk smiled before his gaze flicked to Jon to see that the Bastard of Winterfell was eyeing a blood great warhorn inside the tent. Eight feet long, it took up almost a quarter of the tent. It was huge and black with bands of ancient gold that were etched with runes of the First Men.

"Yes. The Horn of Winter, that Joramun once blew to wake the giants from the earth." Mance nodded to Jon who turned wide eyes back to Mance.

"Ygritte said you never found the Horn…" Jon accused, causing Mance to chuckle once.

"Did you think only crows could lie? I liked you well enough, for a bastard…but I never trusted you. A man needs to earn my trust." Mance declared, earning what sounded like an approving grunt from the Blackfish.

"If you've had the Horn all along, why haven't you used it? Why bother besieging the castle and sending the Thenns south? If this horn is all the songs say, why not just sound it and be done?" Jon demanded from Mance, only to have Dalla answer as she went through her labor.

"We free folk know things you kneelers have forgotten. Sometimes the short road is not the safest, Jon Snow. The Horned Lord once said that sorcery is a sword without a hilt. There is no safe way to grasp it." Dalla answered breathlessly as she held her swollen stomach.

"No man goes hunting with only one arrow in his quiver," Mance Rayder said, running a hand through his hair as he did so. "I had hoped that Styr and his Thenns would have taken your brothers unawares, and opened the gate for us. But I had not anticipated the Young Wolf arriving with all haste to garrison all the castles. How many men do you have? A hundred thousand? Maybe more?"

"More." Robb said cooly, leaning back in his chair to observe Mance

"Aye, perhaps you have the men. But so do I. And if I wanted to, I could send them all marching right now to bring your Wall down with a single blow of this horn." Mance said, patting the horn somewhat affectionately.

"Why don't you then?" Robb challenged, causing Mance to look up with a cold glint in his eye.

"Blood," said Mance Rayder. "Maybe you'd win, maybe I would, either way...my people have bled enough."

"Your losses haven't been that heavy." Jon pointed out, causing Mance to turn to him.

"Not at your hands." Mance studied Jon's face. "You saw the Fist of the First Men. You know what happened there. You _know_ what we are facing."

"The Others ..." Jon said quietly, causing the gathered people in the tent to subconsciously shuffle closer together.

"They grow stronger as the days grow shorter and the nights colder. First they kill you, then they send your dead against you. The giants have not been able to stand against them, nor the Thenns, the ice river clans, the Hornfoots…"

"Nor you?" Robb asked curiously, causing Mance to flick his gaze back to him as his scarred and grizzled cheeks tinted pink in shame.

"Nor me." There was anger in that admission, and bitterness too deep for words. "Raymun Redbeard, Bael the Bard, Gendel and Gorne, the Horned Lord, they all came south to conquer, but I've come with my tail between my legs to hide behind your Wall." He ran his hand along the horn again with a sigh.

"If I sound the Horn of Winter, the Wall will fall. Or so the songs would have me believe. There are those among my people who want nothing more ..."

"But once the Wall is fallen," Dalla said from her corner by the fire, "what will stop the Others?" her words causing Mance to beam at her.

"A true Queen I have found…" Mance smiled, causing Robb to think of the _real_ Queen waiting for him to return to her.

"You called this parley, Robb Stark. What do you have to say?" Mance asked, looking back to Robb.

"Lay down your weapons, stop fighting against me and the Night's Watch." Robb said causing Mance to scoff before Robb continued

"I cannot allow your people to cross the Wall today. They will never adhere to our laws instantly, and I don't intend to let my people suffer for that. What I will do is this…I know that we have yet another year and a half before the Walkers march onto us, I offer you to establish your people here, on the Northern side of the Wall and build your settlements from Eastwatch-by-the-Sea to Westwatch-by-the-Bridge. If you settle here, your people can make a choice between living comfortably by their own ways north of the Wall, or they can adapt and come south to become citizens of Westeros where they will kneel to me. I don't intend to conquer you, I am giving you your freedom of choice. Here, you can assist the Night's Watch in fortifications and we can begin training your able-bodied warriors to fight, while giving those who want it rigorous teaching in adapting to Westerosi life. Those who are deemed worthy will be allowed to cross the tunnels over the next year and a half to settle in the Gift, the land is fertile and plush, but has fallen to disuse due to raids by your own people. If you settle here, I will be able to send trade ships and caravans to bring you supplies, here I can send builders to help you build homes and settlements. Here, you can be free…and our two peoples will never have to feud again. And when the Others arrive, we will all face them together. This is what I offer you, Mance Rayder." Robb said, sitting back in his chair to have his own followers stare at him in complete surprise, they had not expected Robb to make this offer, and clearly neither had Mance Rayder who looked at a loss for words.

"That is…logical…" Mance managed to get out after a long, long time,

"And generous." Brynden Tully said, causing Mance to look up at him.

"Aye. Very generous…if you can promise me these terms, Robb Stark. I can promise you that I will enforce them amongst my own people with an iron fist."

"Good. Because if any more innocents die at the hands of the wildlings, then I rest the blame entirely on you." Robb said rising from his chair to offer Mance his hand. Mance chewed his lip for a moment before rising to shake Robb's hand.

"You're a tough negotiator, but I can see why you are the King."

"I am the King because I won the war, when the realm is at peace, I will count myself a good and just ruler. Have your people lay down their weapons and raise peace banners. I want you and your high command to meet with the Night's Watch command. We will sign a treaty that everyone must adhere to, for if we do not…then we might as well hand ourselves over to the Walkers without opposition." Robb declared, as Jon rose to stand beside him and his party prepared to leave.

"Very well. I did not expect this to end this way, but I cannot say I am not pleased…" Mance said in a gruff tone as Robb's party left his tent to mount their horses and return to Castle Black.

"Nor I." Robb said with a nod and a half-smile.

* * *

 _Author's Note: Heyyy everyone, so once again thanks for the continued support of this story._

Do leave a review!


	33. Chapter 33

Jon Snow had asked Robb for some time alone after their return, and instead of taking that time to be alone, Jon ventured to Maester Aemon's chambers. What Robb had revealed to Jon the other night had left Jon consumed with so many different thoughts that he did not know how to process.

One thought that had popped into his head was the realization that Aemon Targaryen was his relative…and could offer wise insight into Jon's predicament.

He had been worried about disturbing the Maester, but was relieved when the door opened shortly after his knock.

"Jon Snow?" Aemon asked curiously, his soft voice still commanding such authority despite his age.

"Maester Aemon. I'm sorry to disturb you, I wished-…I just wanted to talk to you about something I learned." Aemon tilted his head, before nodding and stepping aside to allow Jon into his chambers.

"Speak your mind, Jon Snow. Is this about your parley today?"

"Yes. No… Its about a few things…" Jon sighed, taking the seat that Maester Aemon gestured to as he hobbled to sit across from Jon.

"Don't be so vague, boy. What is it?" Aemon coaxed from the young man.

"I learned who my father is, and its…its not Ned Stark. I am…I am the bastard son of Rhaegar Targaryen and Lyanna Stark, born when he kidnapped my mother and took her to the Tower of Joy." Jon declared heavily, avoiding Aemon's gaze as he stared the floor.

"My fath-…my _uncle_ , Ned Stark took me in as his own to protect me. I-…I know this is hard to believe, but…I feel like I always knew something was different, and I think you knew as well. King Robb brought this news to me from Lord Howland Reed, the only living man who went to the Tower of Joy when my mother died." Jon's explanation was slow, he stopped constantly to flick his eyes up at Aemon who remained expressionless.

"The Prince of Ice and Fire…" Aemon said with a touch of woe in his soft, wise voice.

"Maester?"

"I did know, I knew… There was a Targaryen spark in you, I could not tell why. But now it does make sense…" Aemon sighed, shaking his robes off his wrists before looking back to Jon with his near-blind gaze.

"The horror that was wrought on Westeros because of this prophecy, on my House because your father believed that a Stark was the key. Rhaegar…Rhaegar had the madness in his own way…and his madness led to much chaos. I do not blame you, Jon Snow. I feel sorry for you, for you should have been a Royal Prince, not downtrodden as a bastard."

"Maester, it matters not now. What does matter is Daenerys, my aunt. She languishes in chains in Qarth, and the only way to stop the Walkers…is by dragonfire."

"And dragonglass, Jon Snow. Samwell destroyed one with an obsidian blade."

"I know, but where are we to find more dragonglass?" Jon asked hopelessly

"Dragonstone, which I believe is now under King Robb's control. There is an infinite amount of dragonglass on Dragonstone that can be mined and turned into weapons. The King should order that to happen at once." Aemon advised, sitting back in his chair to be closer to his fire.

"I will speak to Robb, but what of Daenerys. I am told that I must venture east with Robb and a force of his men to free her from her chains and return her to Westeros, and together the three of us are supposed to defeat the Others when they finally march on us." Jon said, causing Aemon to sigh and clasp his hands atop his chest thoughtfully.

"Who told you this?" Aemon asked curiously

"Robb, who was told by Jojen Reed. The boy claims to be a greenseer and has seen many things that have come to pass. Robb is not the kind of man to believe in magic and myth, but if he says this is true, I believe him."

"How will you venture to Essos, Jon Snow? When you know full well your oaths to the Night's Watch keeps you here."

"My oaths have kept me in an ice cell." Jon said impatiently rising from his chair to pace the room.

"You broke your sacred vow-." Aemon began with a tired sigh.

"Have they not? Have they not ridden to the Mole's Town brothel? I loved her…and I still rode back to warn the Watch of the danger we faced. I have sacrificed much for the Watch, to prove to them that my loyalty is true and all I have earned is hatred…I needed to come here to learn of the Wall, but…but I truly believe my destiny is now by Robb's side. I cannot deny this feeling anymore than I can deny my love for Ygritte, Maester."

"Well. Aren't you lucky your brother won the war and is now the only King in Westeros. His word means much for the Watch…if you must leave, then leave, Jon Snow. But if you go to Daenerys then there is much you and I are going to discuss about dragons and our family lineage that your poor aunt must know." Aemon said, leaning forward to whisper at Jon.

* * *

"MADNESS!" screamed Ser Alliser Thorne

"TREASON, I SAY! TREASON!" Janos Slynt screamed from beside him.

"The Night's Watch will _never_ ally with the wildlings!" First Builder Yarwyck called out as well. Robb sighed, bowing his head as he stood at the high table facing the senior command of the Night's Watch who had been called in with all haste to hear Robb's proposal.

"You are the man who slaughtered my father's men while they believed you to be their ally, you would know treason well, Janos Slynt." Robb said through gritted teeth, causing Janos to dart his eyes around as his black brothers turned to look at him.

"But this is not treason. This is logic. The Others march on us! The Wildlings are no longer our enemy. The Night's Watch will be maybe a thousand strong once I have sent my prisoners of war to the Wall, but that will still not be enough in case you face any early raids from the Walkers while I am away and my army returns home to gather the last harvest. The Wildlings only want protection. They will be allies that the Night's Watch desperately needs when the Long Night comes for us all." Robb declared to murmured across the black brothers.

"This debate is getting us nowhere…" Maester Aemon rose from his seat with the assistance of Samwell Tarly, his words silencing the room quickly.

"There is only one course of action here, we must now have the election for the next Lord Commander, for only he can make this decision." Aemon declared.

"An election? Now?" Alliser Thorne called "Have you lost your wits, old man?"

"Watch your tongue, Thorne!" Donal Noye's gruff words caused the old knight to blush scarlet.

"The senior command of the Night's Watch is gathered here today. An election now will avoid more arguments beneath our roof. A decision must be made. Tarly, bring the tokens and prepare to count." Aemon ordered as Robb stepped off the platform that the high table was stationed upon. Aemon took the Lord Commander's seat to officiate the vote.

Robb took a seat at the back of the hall with Ser Garlan Tyrell and the Blackfish to watch the proceedings. Jon soon came to join him, shrugging off his black cloak in a symbolic gesture to Robb that he was going to accept his brother's offer. Soon all the remaining black brothers of Castle Black had filtered into the dining hall as Sam returned with the tokens and counters for the vote.

Maester Aemon cleared his throat somewhat comically as he rose from his seat and gained the attention of all the hall.

"Does anyone wish to speak for candidates, before we cast our tokens for the 998th Lord Commander of the Night's Watch?" Maester Aemon asked slowly, causing Janos Slynt to rise from his chair.

"Ser Alliser Thorne is not just a knight, he is a man of true nobility. He has been Acting Commander for the last six months, and has been actively organizing our defense against the wildlings. He's a veteran of a hundred battles, and has been a watcher on the Wall almost all of his life. He's the only true choice." Lord Janos said, looking reverently at the older knight, causing Robb and Jon to look at each with similar features of disgust as Ser Alliser's supporters cheered.

"Ser Denys Mallister joined the Watch as a boy, and has served loyally, longer than any other ranger." Said a man who stood up from the Shadow Tower.

"Through ten winters he's served, as Commander of the Shadow Tower, he has kept wildlings, bandits, slavers and reavers away. We can do no better." The man said proudly, before sitting back beside Ser Denys as his own supporters applauded.

"If there is no one else…we will begin the voting…"

"Maester Aemon…I have another candidate." Samwell Tarly called out, causing every eye in the room to turn to him.

"Samwell Tarly, go on." Aemon encouraged with a hint of a smile.

"Sam the Slayer." Janos Slynt called out mockingly "Another wildling lover just like his friend Jon Snow. How's your lady love, slayer?" Slynt asked to a few mocking laughs from around the room. Samwell however smirked at Slynt in return.

"Her name is Gilly. Brother Slynt knows her quite well. They cowered together in the larder when the wildlings arrived." Sam said, causing the room at large to laugh loudly at Janos's expense.

"Lies!" Janos screamed, hunching in his seat slightly as the brothers laughed at him.

"A wildling girl, a baby and Lord Janos." Sam chuckled, glaring hate at Janos Slynt as he smiled "I found him there after the Battle with the Thenns was over, in a puddle of his own making." These words from Samwell caused the entire room except for Janos Slynt to burst out laughing, including Robb and Jon who held onto each other for dear life.

"Whilst Lord Janos was hiding with the women and children, Donal Noye was leading. He was leading our men against their fears as he has always done, he was guiding the brothers through the darkness as only he is capable of." Samwell Tarly called out, to widespread cheers from the black brothers. Donal was well-loved across the Wall for his fierce reputation, his excellent skills at the forge, and his military skill and strategy despite having only one arm.

Donal himself looked mortified at the nomination.

"He has served the Night's Watch for nineteen years now. In that time he has earned the loyalty and respect of every single brother. He has trained and forged weapons for half of us here, and no man can deny that Donal's counsel is second only to that of Maester Aemon. A good man, a great leader. He is the Commander we need when the night is darkest." Samwell Tarly declared to loud applause as Donal gruffly muttered curses under his breath.

"Very well. The triangular tokens count for Ser Allister Thorne, the circular tokens for Ser Denys Mallister and the square tokens for Donal Noye. It is time to vote. Every brother is granted one vote each."

The brothers got up one by one to pick a token from the three bowls on offer and drop it into the large jug before Maester Aemon. What may have been only twenty minutes passed, but to everyone in the room it felt like hours, until finally Maester Aemon cracked the jug open and began placing the tokens on their counters. The count did not even take ten minutes, for it became clear after a short while that Donal Noye had won the command by overwhelming numbers. The room cheered, save for Alliser Thorne and Janos Slynt as Noye rose from his seat to raise his only hand in thanks.

" _DO-NAL! DO-NAL! DO-NAL!"_ They chanted as Donal Noye took a shaky breath and looked over to Robb Stark and Jon Snow who grinned at him.

"I agree with the King. It is time for peace. The Night's Watch will enforce justice on the wildlings as agreed by the treaty we will sign. Maester Aemon, Ser Denys and Cotter Pyke will join me in signing the treaty on behalf of the Night's Watch. Tonight we celebrate!" Donal declared, his first few words causing great distress in the hall until the men cheered once more.

* * *

"Congratulations, Lord Commander." Jon smiled to Donal later that night as he and Robb sat before Donal in the Lord Commander's chambers.

"Damn that Samwell Tarly. This is a burden for a two-armed man." Donal said gruffly, having already donned the great cloak of the Lord Commander, Donal looked very much ready for the role.

"You can do more with that hand than half the country can with two." Robb said, earning a bemused smile from Donal Noye.

"You realize agreeing with you has painted a target on my back." Donal sighed, tapping his fingers on the desk.

"I know, which is why you and I must work together quickly to sign the treat and ensure Mance enforces our terms with his people." Robb said, adjusting himself in his seat.

"But that is not why I come to you today. Alliser Thorne and Janos Slynt still call for Jon's head. He has done nothing wrong, you know that. But if he is found guilty in his trial, after all that he has done, I will not allow him to face the block. He came here willingly, Donal. He will leave willingly as well, under royal order."

"The Night's Watch-."

"Do not say the Night's Watch are beyond royal order, because my latest royal order was to send hundreds of men, supplies, and gold to the Watch when I am back in King's Landing. Jon Snow has risked his life for the Watch time and again, and they have no love for him for it. They call him bastard, they call him traitor. No longer. This…" Robb pulled a scroll out from his doublet "…is a royal edict requesting that, due to the precarious position my House's line of succession is left in following the War of the Five Kings, as well as needing him to accompany me across the Narrow Sea to fetch Daenerys Targaryen, Jon Snow be released from his vows to the Night's Watch and restored as a citizen of the crown. He is not a criminal, he is not a thief, a murderer or a rapist. He came here for honor, he has acted honorably, and has received nothing but hate for it. He will be discharged from his vows. My brother will be leaving with me, Lord Commander Donal." Robb declared, causing the one-armed smith turned lord to sigh and bow his head. Robb Stark was King now, and with the promise of more men, supplies and gold, as well as Robb's support during the Long Night, Donal had no choice but to accept his request.

After all…what was the service of one bastard boy in exchange for the safety of Seven Kingdoms?

"Very well. Jon Snow. For the lack of trust the brothers of the Night's Watch and have in you, despite your best efforts, and because the King has personally requested you. I relieve you from your duty as Man of the Night's Watch. I revoke your oaths, and restore you as a citizen under the domain of the crown. Should you ever commit another crime, Castle Black will never be open to you again, for now your watch has ended."


	34. Chapter 34

In the clear space of land between the Wall and Mance Rayder's wildling army, twelve souls came together to sign a historical treaty that would forever change the relationship between the free folk and the Westerosi. Among the twelve were: King Robb Stark, Lord Brynden 'The Blackfish' Tully, Lord Commander Donal Noye, Maester Aemon, Ser Denys Mallister of the Shadow Tower, Cotter Pyke of Eastwatch-by-the-Sea, The King-Beyond-the-Wall Mance Rayder, Tormund Giantsbane, Sigorn the new Magnar of the Thenns, as well as three Clan Chiefs from the Hornfoots, the Ice-River Clans and the Giants.

Samwell Tarly had drafted the treaty under explicit wording from Maester Aemon and King Robb. It had gone between both camps once, before everyone agreed to the signing. It was a historic day as the black brothers watched from the mouth of the tunnel, and the wildlings watched from the tree-line. Robb and Mance were the first to pen the parchments with their names and titles, shaking hands after they did so. Tormund and Donal Noye went next, until twelve names adorned the parchment. Mag the Mighty had been unable to grip a quill, and so Mance signed his name for him with Mag's consent.

For a few moments, the men and Mag the Mighty lingered as the treaties were carefully rolled up, one being given to Mance and the other being given to Donal Noye. They chatted amicably amongst themselves until Robb felt Grey-Wind stiffen by his side. He did not tend to go anywhere without his direwolf, and by now most people were used to it. Robb himself turned to kneel by Grey-Wind who growled slightly before whining, his tail rising into the air in a half-wag. Robb looked up to where Grey-Wind was staring to see nothing but white snow.

White snow flecked with two spots of red that were moving closer and closer to them. Robb stood up in alarm when he realized that he was looking at his brother's direwolf. Grey-Wind howled once before charging off with all speed to greet his estranged litter mate. The smokey-grey and white wolves rolled in the snow, watched by an amused Robb before they both came over to him panting.

"Jon will be happy to see you, boy…" Robb smiled, scratching Ghost's ears.

"Keep the peace," Robb ordered of Mance Rayder as the two men prepared to part ways again after that. Robb's army had been preparing to march south for home, Mance's army was to begin settling No-Man's Land for their own with promise of supplies from Robb once he returned south.

"Keep your word." Mance Rayder said in return. The two men nodded to each other once more before turning their heels and marching their separate ways.

When Robb returned to Castle Black with the wolves in tow, he had been unsurprised to find Jon with Ygritte in the store room that was serving as her cell. When Jon had sensed Ghost, he had all but cried tears of joy as he reunited with his wolf.

"I missed you, boy…" Jon said, wrapping his arms around Ghost's neck, to receive a scratchy lick on his cheek in return. Robb, who stood in the doorway with Grey-Wind turned to Ygritte who was staring at Robb with a look crossed between fear, respect and curiosity.

"You really wan' me to come and be in your lands? With him?" she couldn't help but ask Robb who turned to a blushing Jon with a raised eyebrow.

"I said that it was his responsibility to ensure that you adhered to our laws if you _choose_ to come south. If you do, then you must realize that Jon will not be a crow, nor will he be a wildling. He will be a lord in my service, and if you are to be together it means that you will have to adopt the customs of Westeros and the North. I am of course willing to allow you to come south, but only if you swear to Jon that you-."

"I swear." She interrupted quickly "I need-…I canno' be in the North anymore. She runs in my veins, aye…but I want…want what we had in that cave, Jon Snow." She said, turning her gaze to Jon who smiled slightly.

"Now I think I'm going to vomit." Robb teased, causing Jon to shoot him an angry gaze.

"Your Grace, I beg of you…to allow me to bring Ygritte south with me. She will be in my custody, and I will ensure that she understands our laws now." Jon said, to Robb from where he was kneeling by Ghost and Ygritte. Robb sighed and rolled his eyes, turning to walk out of the room as he spoke.

"Gods…fine…but if anyone asks, you tell them I gave you a hard time about this. You had to beg and plead and cry, and I only relented after you groveled like the little pup you are…" Robb's rant faded the further away he got, leaving Jon and Ygritte to smile shyly at each other.

* * *

When Robb had put out a call for any men in his army to join the Night's Watch, he had not expected many to take up arms, but was greatly surprised at the number that did. They were mostly commoners, commoners who had experienced war and battle and had not yet had their fill. Of the great army Robb marched to the Wall, he left almost a thousand men behind of their own free will to take black.

Robb met Donal Noye in the courtyard of Castle Black, and for the first time since Robb had met him, the grizzled old blacksmith was smiling.

"You've done a great thing here, you know." Donal stated as he slowly walked Robb out of the gates of Castle Black, where Robb's massive host of men were falling into rank and preparing for their march home.

"I could not have done it without your word, Lord Commander." Robb said in return as the snow crunched beneath their feet and Robb approached his horse that was waiting for him beside the mounted Garlan Tyrell, Brynden Tully and Jon Snow, who had abandoned the black cloak of the Night's Watch for his old cloak lined with grey and white wolf's fur.

"Take care of yourself, Snow. I'd be lying if I said it wasn't a shame to see you go. You were a good lad, a good ranger. They never appreciated you here for it." Donal Noye said to Jon, extending his remaining hand to shake Jon's.

"And you, Lord Commander. I can think of no-one better to lead the Watch now than you." Jon smiled in return, causing Donal Noye to give him a nod of thanks. Robb, who had by now mounted his horse, turned back to Donal.

"When I have returned to King's Landing, the Watch should expect an influx of recruits. Prisoners of war from my campaign. Do not grow content here, Lord Commander. Everything we've achieved in the last few days has been for a purpose. The Others will be upon us soon, and when they are, we best pray to the all the Gods that we are ready."

"Bring that girl and her dragons, and I'm sure we will be." Donal grunted. Robb sighed, giving Donal a nod before turning to look at the road ahead, Ghost and Grey-Wind were waiting for orders from their Masters before they would lead the host forth.

"See you in a year and a half, Donal." Robb said, before whistling loudly and sending Grey-Wind and Ghost off in a gentle trot that he and Jon joined in. The army followed behind them, the banners of a grey wolf upon a white field flying proudly amongst the thousands of men.

"When we return to Winterfell, I will legitimize you and name you Warden of the North in my stead until Rickon is of maturity and capability to accept the role. He will serve as your ward and squire while Bran serves as the Lord of Winterfell and Lord Paramount of the North. I know that you three will do me proud in holding the North." Robb said to Jon as their army marched for warmer climates.

"You know I would serve Bran with all my heart, but am I truly the best Warden of the North you can appoint?" Jon asked reluctantly, causing Robb to sigh.

"Yes, Jon. You are. Bran will be a great lord, but his legs…he can never lead men again. The Warden of the North is a military title, and I need a strong commander to hold it. More over I need a strong _Stark_ commander to hold it. When Bran has a son, the title will revert back to him. And you…you, I will reward with a great castle in the North." Robb said with a smile as snow fell heavily on his shoulders.

"Which castle?" Jon asked curiously.

"That is up to you, what you name it. I have given order for the Dreadfort to be razed to the ground, the lands will fall under the domain of Winterfell…until I grant them to you. You would be close to Bran, you would have your own lands, your own castle, and your own House. You would be a Lord in my service. Its what you've always wanted, and what I always wished you could have. You are my brother, my blood. You are all I have." Robb said imploringly to Jon who sighed, shaking his head.

"A week ago…I was set to die freezing in a small room I couldn't even lie down in. Now…I'm about to be Warden of the North. This is a…funny life we live." Jon commented causing Robb to chuckle.

"Now you know how I felt when I had to claim the Iron Throne. Come on, let's pick up the pace. I want to get to Winterfell as quickly as possible, before Mother learns that Bran has gone North."

"Aye, but Robb…what of Ygritte…will…will the other lords accept me if I take a wildling as my lady." Jon asked, as though the question pained him greatly.

"Will she accept being a lady in the first place?" Robb asked in return, causing Jon to sigh and rub his brow.

"She's not the type for dresses and dances and the like, but I believe she wants to be with me, and I want to be with her…if it means I cannot accept your titles then-…"

'Shut up, Jon. Firstly the lords will always be disgruntled about my decisions, especially this one. You were a bastard after all. But I care not for their rumors and their words, what I care about is who will serve me well in bringing peace to the realm. I know its you. Just promise me…that you will bring Ygritte into line. If she attends royal functions, she must look and act like the wife of the Warden of the North." Robb declared clearly as they got ever closer to the lands of Last Hearth.

"Yeah, that's not going to happen. That's part of the reason I love her. She will not make a scene, I promise you that much."

"Jon, this isn't a negotiation. I'm serious. I may have won the throne and most of the Kingdoms stand behind me, but these years after my victory will be the most precarious. I must be careful, and I need you to do the same." Robb ordered of his brother, who sighed and nodded.

"I serve you, Robb. I will. For father, and for the love I bear you."

"Not too much love, I hope. I have a Princess-Consort waiting for me, it would be most inappropriate if I ran off with my bastard-brother to live a life of leisure and romance." Robb teased causing Jon to roll his eyes.

"Careful. I might steal you away one day for real, and then you'll be sorry."

"I see why mother was always so worried about us now…" Robb said after a moment

"Yes, we do make quite a lot of these jokes about running away together…" Jon commented thoughtfully, before the Stark men both laughed heartily together.

* * *

Robb's army finally arrived at Winterfell, where they would rest for a short while before Ser Edmure Tully would lead the Riverlords home, Ser Garlan Tyrell would do the same for the Reachmen, and Lord Bryce Caron for the Stormlords, all in an effort to gather a last great harvest across Westeros before the Others descended down upon them. The Southern Lords having seen giants and direwolves and other creatures long thought lost to myth and fable, readily accepted the words of their King when he said the Long Night was coming. After all, Robb had united Westeros when five Kings had ripped it apart.

While Robb knew that the lords needed to return to their castles, he also knew he needed to maintain a standing army for when he inevitably sailed across the Narrow Sea to free Daenerys Targaryen. And so like he did with the Night's Watch, the Young Wolf put out a call to the soldiers of his army who wished to continue fighting under his name to remain behind in Winterfell. The Northmen who had gathered to the Lord of Winterfell from all over the great region, who had followed Robb Stark even after their lords had dispersed home, loyally stayed, giving Robb almost 5500 of his own countrymen.

The Rivermen, common soldiers and men numbered around 4500 men who were given leave from the knights and lords they served to remain behind with their King.

The soldiers of the Stormlands, who were hardy folk that championed Robb Stark following the loss of their Lord Paramount numbered just over 3000, while the Reachmen brought the greatest strength to Robb's new host with 12, 000 Reachmen electing to stay behind and serve under the direwolf banner. Though his army was now only at a fifth of its strength that it had been during the War of the Five Kings, it remained a united standing army of Westeros.

Due to their parents and siblings being present and able to hold both Last Hearth and Bear Island respectively, Robb's two very best friends, Smalljon Umber and Dacey Mormont, elected to accept his offer to become courtiers in King's Landing and generals of his army, as well as remain by his side through the adventures he would undertake. Brynden Tully left with Ser Edmure when the Riverlords marched home but he promised Robb that after he had married Tyta Frey and settled the Twins with his own men, he would make haste for King's Landing to serve on Robb's Small Council.

Slowly the Lords who had loyally followed Robb began to make their way home, and Robb began to feel the pressure shoulders ease more and more with each train of men that left Winterfell.

He stood watching the last train of soldiers led by Ser Garlan Tyrell from a window in his father's solar, which…he _knew_ was his solar now, but could not help but still think that he was intruding on his father's space. Jon and Maester Luwin were both standing behind Robb, waiting for him to speak.

"What news of the Dreadfort, Maester?" Robb asked, still looking out the window at the banners of House Tyrell fading away.

"Harrion Karstark has sacked the castle and freed the servants of House Bolton, all of whom were either deeply traumatized or deeply sadistic. Lord Harrion had to put a few to the sword. At any rate, anything of value is being sent to Winterfell for you, and I am told that Harrion razed the castle to the ground." Luwin reported, clasping his hands in front of him, his great sleeves covering his fingers completely.

"Good. Rickon will come with Jon, mother, Arya and I to King's Landing for the wedding. Ser Rodrik will be named castellan. You and he will remain in Winterfell with a full garrison and lead the harvest until Rickon and mother return to be the Starks in Winterfell. When Bran has returned from the North, I want word sent to King's Landing straight away."

"Of course, Your Grace."

"I wish for you to send a raven to the Citadel as well, Maester Luwin. I wish for them to elect a new Grand Maester, and I wish for your name to be put forward. If I am to rule this country, I can think of no man better to advise me than the man who advised me since I was a boy." Robb smiled, turning to face Luwin who paled at his words.

"Your Grace, I am honored…but my place is here at Winterfell…with Bran…"

"I have a feeling that Bran will be just fine. Please, Maester Luwin. Heed my word, and after you have done so, gather the household in the courtyard. I wish for them to bear witness to something." Robb said with a half-smile at Jon.

* * *

"Jon Snow. Unsheath your blade." Robb commanded of his brother as the two Stark men faced each other in the courtyard, the household of Winterfell gathered around to watch what was about to happen. Rickon was practically hopping up and down in Osha's arms with excitement. Ser Rodrik Cassel was tugging on his whiskers in thoughtful pride, and Maester Luwin simply smiled. Ygritte herself failed to fight a smile as Jon withdrew Longclaw from his scabbard.

"Kneel and lay your sword at my feet." Robb said, causing Jon to sigh slightly before doing so with a half-smile.

"Pledge me your service and your fealty."

"From our first days to our last, we are brothers. I pledge you my sword, I swear you my service so long as I have breath in my body and blood in my veins. If there is anything you would ask of me, my King, I will abide."

"Rise, Jon Stark of Winterfell, Warden of the North." Robb said, holding out a royal decree of legitimization. Jon looked up to Robb with shining eyes before rising to accept the scroll.

"Thank you…" Jon whispered, before the two brothers embraced in a hug.

* * *

That night, Winterfell and the 26, 000 strong host outside its walls enjoyed a feast in honor of Jon's legitimization and title. Robb himself sat in the Lord's chair in the great hall, trading japes with Smalljon Umber as Jon was congratulated over and over again by those in the castle.

There was only one person he wanted to speak to, and she was hiding in the back of the great hall talking to Osha and tugging uncomfortably at the dress she was wearing.

"Oh come off it. I know that's warmer and more comfortable than the rags of dead animal skin you stitched for yourself." Jon said approaching Ygritte, who turned to scowl at him.

"You know nothing, Jon Snow."

"Its Stark now." He smiled.

"Eugh." Osha grunted in disgust at the romantic tension she was witnessing, before walking away to leave Jon and Ygritte alone.

"So you're a kneeler now. How did it feel?" Ygritte asked, causing Jon to roll his eyes.

"You know…Robb's been nothing but gracious towards you. He let you come with us, he's letting me court you-."

"Court me? What the fuck is court?" Ygritte asked incredulously causing Jon to sigh before smiling.

"He's letting us marry…if we want." Jon explained quietly, placing a loving hand on Ygritte's arm. She glanced back at Robb before looking up to Jon in disbelief.

"Aye, I know he said that, and I hear you say it now, but still I don't believe you. You southerners would never accept a free woman for a lady." Ygritte insisted, picking up a goblet from the tray of a passing servant and taking a deep swig from it.

"I don't have any lands to my name now, no people to look after. I command the Northmen now in Robb and Bran's names. I'm a fighter, and so are you. In title we might be lord and lady, aye. But we'd be so much more than that. We'd be each others…and we'd be free. Robb is my brother and loves me enough to let you be here. I don't want us to-."

"Shut up, Jon Sno-..Stark." Ygritte sighed, leaning forward to kiss him "I won't kneel for nobody, I'll say it now." She said, placing her hands on the back of his neck.

"That…is not going to work." Jon sighed, causing Ygritte to engage in yet another short argument with him.


	35. Chapter 35

Catelyn Stark's return to Winterfell was followed by a short moment of joy as Rickon, Arya and Robb reunited in the courtyard of the castle. Robb had hugged his mother, when he felt her stiffen in his arms, he pulled away to see Jon had walked into the courtyard.

"What is _he_ doing here?" Catelyn asked stiffly, her nose wrinkling in distaste as Arya excitedly sprinted into Jon's arms and nearly tackled him off his feet. Jon was preoccupied with Arya, and thankfully so, for he did not hear the beginnings of the argument that Robb and Catelyn got into.

"You did _what_?!" Catelyn asked fiercely, all but pushing her son away from her as she stepped away from his arms to glare fiercely at him.

"It is one thing that you have claimed the Iron Throne, broken your pact with Walder Frey and you're now marrying Margaery Tyrell without saying a _word_ to me! But this! _This?!_ Robb I cannot stand! If you are to go to King's Landing, the Warden of the North must be a Stark, your father's son!"

"Bran is a cripple, mother!" Robb exclaimed, by now everyone in the yard was watching them. Arya slowly slipped off Jon's back as Jon himself looked to the ground, feeling those all too familiar feelings of being an outcast rushing back into him. Robb looked around to see that they had an audience, and with a growl, he stood up straighter.

"As you were!" Robb called, causing those in service to him to jump and return hastily to their duties. "Jon…take Arya and Rickon back to their rooms. Have Maester Luwin settle mother's party. She and I will be in my solar." Robb said stiffly, looking to his mother, who looked like she was about to burst a vein in her forehead.

"The realm is at peace now, the title is purely ceremonial. Why in the name of the Gods would you grant it to _him_?" Catelyn snapped, the moment that Robb had closed the door to the solar of the Lord of Winterfell.

"You're a fool if you think the realm is at peace. Not only am I a usurper who has yet to gain allegiance from the Houses of the Vale, the Crownlands and Dorne…there is an army of White Walkers marching on the wall." Robb said, standing behind the desk to speak seriously to his mother, who scoffed at her son's claims.

"Did you hurt your head?" she asked with a half-worried tilt of her head

"Mother! This is serious! I was at the Wall, and I prevented an army of a hundred thousand wildlings from destroying the Night's Watch. They are trying to escape them. The Long Night is coming. I've seen it with my own eyes…and our family…we play a central role in stopping it. I have legitimized Jon as a Stark of Winterfell and placed him behind Arya in the line of succession." Robb stated, earning a swift look from Catelyn that preceded her lurching out of her chair.

"Your did _what_?! Robb Stark! How could you?! He is a bastard, a stain of honor on our family, on your father and on me!"

"HE IS NOT FATHER'S!" Robb shouted, causing his mother to stop abruptly in confusion.

"What? What do you mean he's not your father's?"

"Did father ever tell you explicitly that Jon was his son? No. All he ever said to any of us…was that Jon was his blood. Jon is not father's bastard. My father was the most honorable man in Westeros and he loved his family more than anything in the world. Jon…is Aunt Lyanna's son...by Prince Rhaegar." Robb sighed, causing Catelyn's eyes to wide and her lip to tremble.

" _Impossible…_ " she breathed, sinking slowly into her chair.

"It's true. Lord Howland Reed, father's bannerman and companion to the Tower of Joy, he told me all. Jon was born when Rhaegar kidnapped Aunt Lyanna and seduced her to sire a child. When the war was at end, Jon was born…Aunt Lyanna knew that King Robert would kill him, and she wanted him safe. She made father swear to keep him safe and to keep his true identity secret…and so father claimed him as his own…and to protect Jon…to protect us _all…_ he hid the truth for eighteen years…" Robb said in a sad tone, as Catelyn held her head in her hands.

"The burdens he carried all his life…that foolish man…" Catelyn said, her voice cracking with emotion.

"Father's remains are with me…I've been…I didn't want to leave them anywhere…and I wanted to wait till you were here. Bran and Sansa aren't here but…I had his crypt carved already…" Robb said sadly, Catelyn nodded silently until something Robb said registered with her.

"Bran isn't here? Where is he?" she asked, her words sharp.

"Calm down, mother. If Bran is to be Lord of Winterfell, he must know his lords bannermen. He asked me to let him go to our bannermen around the North for short visits to claims oaths of fealty. He will be back in Winterfell soon, but sadly not before we leave for the wedding. He needs to do this, mother. He's not a boy anymore…" Robb's lie did not sit well with him, but it was something everyone had agreed upon before Bran left, for Catelyn Stark would surely have gone mad if she learnt her baby boy was Beyond-the-Wall.

"None of you are." Catelyn sighed, rubbing her temple "All these years…all the hate I gave him…all the pain I put him through…all because I couldn't love a motherless child who was a stain on my honor…" Catelyn said quietly, her voice shaking.

"There is still time to make up for that. Jon will understand. He's a good man, mother. He always has been, and he loves us all." Robb said, crossing around the desk to place a comforting hand on his mother's shoulder.

"I will. But first…Margaery Tyrell? Robb Stark! Do you know what the rumors are about her?"

"Mother, she's a wonderful girl. I love her, and she is going to be my Queen. She also brought me the Reach and the Stormlands, without which we would have lost this war and died the way father died…or worse." Robb sighed, causing Catelyn to nod dejectedly.

"You've grown up haven't you?" she sighed, rising to cup his bearded cheeks.

"You will be a good King. You had an amazing father." She said, kissing his cheek. Robb smiled slightly and nodded.

"Aye, I did."

"And an amazing mother too." Catelyn smiled, a glint back in her eyes, causing Robb to chuckle.

* * *

A fresh snow had fallen, and it seemed most fitting for the morning. Gathered in the courtyard were the Stark household, Robb's friends and commanders, and the family themselves. A great stone tomb was being carried by six Stark soldiers, inside it were the remains of Lord Eddard Stark of Winterfell.

Robb had a tear running down his cheek as Arya and Rickon openly wept into their mother's embrace. Jon Snow himself bowed his head sniffing, tears dropping off his nose as the men took Ned's tomb down to the crypts. The torches and candles had been lit in preparation for the ceremony, the Stark family trailed behind the tomb with Robb leading them.

They walked past the tombs of Ned's father Lord Rickard, his brother Brandon and sister Lyanna, until they came upon Ned's own likeness, carved to sit wisely beside a direwolf with a freshly forged iron sword across his lap. Robb's lip trembled at the likeness of his father which was remarkably well done. The Stark soldiers looked back to Robb who nodded once, sending them forward to kneel and place Ned's tomb beneath the statue carved of him. With a great groaning of stone scratching against stone, Ned Stark's tomb slotted into place beside his brother, sister and father.

The Stark family now could not control their emotions as they embraced together to mourn Lord Eddard. Jon stood apart, holding himself until he felt a tap on his shoulder. He looked up to see a teary-eyed Catelyn Stark opening her arm to him. Jon was shocked, but said nothing as he joined the family embrace.

* * *

 _Author's Note: While writing this section, I was listening to a certain soundtrack and picturing Robb's grand arrival into King's Landing and the small reunion of the Stark family. For anyone who wishes to hear it, it was "Mother of Dragons" from the show_

* * *

A week after the ceremony, the Starks and two-thirds of Robb's army marched for White Harbor, where fifty of the war ships he had sent east were docked and waiting to take them back to King's Landing. Robb had tasked the other third to sweep through the countryside and restore justice and peace to any villages or towns that still suffered from crimes of brutality.

Though the men wore different armors and carried different shields, they all flew the same banners. This was Robb Stark's Royal Army, and he was determined to outfit them with plate and mail when he had settled in King's Landing.

The Manderlys had been most accommodating to Robb, especially after he had granted them a quarter of the silver of the Sarsfield mines to replenish their supplies and expand and develop the city of White Harbor in Robb's name.

The journey to King's Landing was surprisingly smooth, though it took the better part of two weeks. The fifty grand warships navigated the seas with ease, Robb named Ser Davos Seaworth as Captain of the Fleet, Davos having promised to stay by Robb's side to prove his loyalty. The sails and banners of the ships were now a unified grey direwolf's head upon a field of white.

Fourteen days after they set sail, the peak of the Red Keep finally came into view as the sun rose. The fleet caught a strong wind that carried them quickly into port, Robb himself was standing on the bow of his flagship, the _Fury_. Stannis' former flagship before Robb had seized his fleet for his own.

The wind blew through Robb Stark's thick locks, his crown firmly in place as he stared at King's Landing with smoldering blue eyes. Robb was dressed in fine black leathers, a fur cloak draped around his right shoulders and held together by a shining silver direwolf's head clasp, strapped on his left hip was his longsword. He held the pommel of his sword as they sailed closer to the docks.

When the fleet came into view of King's Landing, the bells of the Great Sept of Baelor and the Red Keep began to toll. Jon Stark, Dacey Mormont and Smalljon Umber came to stand behind Robb as the bells got louder.

"They're welcoming their new King." Jon said in slight awe.

On the docks, a great royal welcoming party had assembled, Princess Margaery was dressed in a magnificent gown of grey and white, her long curly brown hair draped around her shoulders in a Northern fashion. Randyll Tarly stood beside her, looking greatly relieved to be done with King's Landing. Sansa stood behind Margaery and beside Ser Loras who still wore the gilded plate of the Knight of Flowers, as Robb had not yet established his Kingsguard. Varys rounded up the party, his hands hidden in his sleeves as he watched the ships approach with great interest.

Lord Tarly and Loras's thousands men kept the peace in the city as the crowds grew overwhelmed at the sight of their hero King, cheering wildly and chanting his name. Direwolf banners flew from countless walls around the city and from the standards held by the soldiers on the ground. Robb, however seemed to have eyes for no-one else but Margaery as the _Fury_ alone docked in the port while the other ships anchored a ways offshore.

A dozen soldiers filtered off the ship to line the pier with their hands on their swords. Robb was the first to disembark after them, striding down the pier with his followers and family in tow. Robb could only grin as he heard cheers erupting from somewhere, he didn't know where. He saw Margaery, he saw her smiling at him, and he saw her stepping forward to meet his passionate embrace. Jon, Dacey and Smalljon rolled their eyes while chuckling as Robb and Margaery pulled apart to have their arms around each other. Sansa could not hold herself back from running to reunite with her mother, Arya and Rickon with tears in her eyes. Catelyn held onto Sansa for dear life as Arya wandered over to stand in front of Robb and Margaery who had turned to wave at the cheering crowds.

"Margaery, allow me to introduce my sister, Arya." Robb chuckled as Arya tilted her head to observe Margaery for a moment. Margaery herself smiled and curtsied at Arya.

"Its lovely to meet you, Arya. Robb's told me so much about you, we were all so glad to learn you were safe." Margaery said sincerely, causing Arya to give Margaery a small smile.

"Thank you." Robb turned away, smiling to shake hands with Lord Randyll Tarly.

"My lord, you have my thanks. Not only have you held this city, but you did it through a great disaster. What reward could I grant to you, my Lord of Horn Hill?" Robb asked, clapping his shoulder.

"Whatever Your Grace deems a worthy reward would be enough for me. But if I could ask two things, it would be for my son Dickon to be knighted at your hand, and to be given leave to return to Horn Hill. I have not seen my lands for some time."

"Done and done, my lord. I am here now, and the Age of the Wolf begins in earnest." Robb smiled, turning back to glance at Margaery, his family and his friends who beamed at Robb before he turned back around to look back at the Red Keep.

* * *

 _Author's Note: Hope you enjoyed it! Please do leave more reviews people!_


	36. Chapter 36

Hello everyone! I want to thank you all for following this story as long as you have! I'm amazed at how many views it gotten.

Do keep reviewing to those new readers! Love reading the reviews, always keeps me going even stronger.

This story and this world has really blown up from what I had originally intended it to be, and I've decided that this first chapter of my series, which I'm calling "A Time for Wolves", shall end here.

Don't despair however! As I'll be starting the second saga right NOW!

Episode 2: Robb Stark, A Wolf King (ALREADY PUBLISHED AND IN PROGRESS ON MY PROFILE)

Here now is a list of the Houses in power of Westeros as of 300AC.

 **HOUSE STARK OF KING'S LANDING (Cadet Branch of House Stark of Winterfell)**

Robb Stark, the First of His Name, a man of nineteen, King of the Andals, the First Men and the Rhoynar, Protector of the Realm, the eldest son of Lord Eddard Stark of Winterfell and Lady Catelyn of House Tully

-His direwolf, Grey-Wind

-His mother, Lady Catelyn of House Tully, widow of Lord Eddard Stark

 **His Siblings:**

-Princess Sansa, a maid of seventeen, intended to Willas Tyrell, Heir to Highgarden

-Princess Arya, a maid of fifteen, currently in King's Landing

-Lord Brandon, Lord of Winterfell, Lord Paramount of the North, Heir to the Iron Throne, a boy of thirteen, called Bran, currently Beyond-the-Wall with:

-Meere Reed a maid of fifteen, daughter of Lord Howland Reed of Greywater Watch  
-Jojen Reed, a boy of thirteen, Heir to Greywater Watch  
-Hodor, a simpleton stableboy who is seven feet tall  
-Summer, his direwolf

-Prince Rickon a boy of seven, Heir to the North, currently in King's Landing with:  
-Shaggydog, his direwolf

-Jon Stark Warden of the North, a man of nineteen, bastard son of Prince Rhaegar Targaryen and Lady Lyanna Stark, discharged from the Night's Watch and legitimized by King Robb.

 **His Betrothed:**

-Princess-Consort Margaery of the House Tyrell, a "maid" of nineteen, betrothed to King Robb Stark, only daughter of Lord Mace Tyrell of Highgarden and Lady Alerie of House Hightower

 **HOUSE STARK OF WINTERFELL**

Brandon Stark, Lord of Winterfell, a boy of thirteen, second son of Lord Eddard Stark and Lady Catelyn of House Tully

 **His Heir:**

-Rickon Stark, a boy of seven, currently in King's Landing with his mother

 **HOUSE TYRELL OF HIGHGARDEN**

Mace Tyrell, Lord of Highgarden, Defender of the Marches, High Marshal of the Reach and Warden of the South

-His wife, Lady Alerie of House Hightower

 **Their Children:**

-Willas Tyrell, their eldest son, Heir to Highgarden

-Ser Garlan Tyrell, their second son, called The Gallant,  
-His wife, Lady Leonette of House Fossoway

-Ser Loras Tyrell, their youngest son, The Knight of Flowers and a member of King Robb's Kingsguard

-Princess-Consort Margaery Tyrell, their only daughter, a "maid" of nineteen, betrothed to King Robb Stark

 **HOUSE TULLY OF RIVERRUN:**

Hoster Tully, Lord of Riverrun, Lord Paramount of the Riverlands, an old man who is bedridden with illness

 **His Children:**

-Lady Catelyn Stark, his eldest daughter, widow of Lord Eddard Stark of Winterfell and mother to King Robb Stark

-Lady Lysa Arryn, his second daughter, widow of Lord Jon Arryn of the Eyrie, mother to Robert Arryn, Lord of the Vale

-Ser Edmure Tully, His Heir and only son  
-His Wife, Lady Roslin of House Frey

 **His Brother:**

Brynden Tully, Lord of the Twins, called the Blackfish, Member of King Robb's Small Council,  
-His Wife, Lady Tyta of House Frey

 **HOUSE BARATHEON OF STORM'S END:**

 _Lordship disputed_

 **HOUSE ARRYN OF THE EYRIE**

Robert Arryn, Lord of the Eyrie, Lord Paramount of the Vale of Arryn, Warden of the East, a sickly and simple boy of ten.

-His Mother, Lady Lysa of House Tully, widow to Lord Jon Arryn, Lady Regent of the Vale of Arryn

 **HOUSE HARLAW OF THE IRON ISLANDS:**

Rodrik Harlaw, Lord of the Ten Towers, Lord of the Iron Islands, yielded to King Robb in 299AC after the royal conquest of the Iron Islands

-Multiple Sons

 **HOUSE MARTELL OF DORNE:**

Prince Doran Martell, Lord of Sunspear, Lord Paramount of Dorne, an old man affected by gout

 **His Children:**

-Princess Arianne Martell, a "maid" of seventeen, eldest child of Prince Doran Martell and Lady Mellario of Norvos, Heir to Sunspear

-Prince Quentyn Martell, his eldest son, a boy of fifteen

-Prince Trystane Martell, his second son, a boy of twelve

 **House Lannister of Casterly Rock:**

Tyrion Lannister, Lord of Casterly Rock and Lord Paramount of the Westerlands, Warden of the West (Currently Incarcerated in King's Landing)


End file.
